Entertainment
MSNBC Rebrands to WHO Gives a Shit, Hires Screaming Roomba as Lead Anchor
In a seismic shift for cable news, MSNBC has unveiled a audacious rebranding to WHO Gives a Shit, a move network executives describe as a “paradigm-shattering leap into the zeitgeist of modern apathy.” This bold pivot, announced yesterday at a sparsely attended press conference in a Newark Holiday Inn Express, introduces the Screaming Roomba as the network’s primetime anchor, a decision that has already sparked heated discourse among the three viewers still tuning in. As a journalist with a rigorous academic grounding in politics, entertainment, sports, and business, I have meticulously researched this development, exploring its historical parallels and cultural ramifications with a scholarly lens.
The rebrand to WHO Gives a Shit reflects what network president Chadsworth Billingsworth III called “a courageous embrace of existential irrelevance.” Drawing on the philosophical underpinnings of Camus’ absurdism and the business model of a failing Etsy store, the network aims to capture the attention of an audience too disillusioned to change the channel. The Screaming Roomba, a modified Roomba 980 outfitted with a voice modulator and a penchant for shrieking “CAPITALISM IS CRUMBS!” at 90 decibels, anchors the flagship program Dust and Despair at 8. Early reviews suggest the Roomba’s incoherent rants about tax policy while colliding with studio furniture outshine MSNBC’s previous human-led programming in both clarity and ratings.
This strategic overhaul draws historical parallels to the 1980s rise of infomercials, when networks pivoted to selling Snuggies to survive. My research into media archives reveals no precedent for hiring a vacuum cleaner as a lead anchor, though the Roomba’s debut—marked by a viral X clip of it attacking a potted plant while decrying “obstructionist flora”—has already garnered 12 views, a 400% increase over MSNBC’s 2024 primetime average. The network’s new tagline, “We’re Yelling, But Your Cat’s Not Listening,” encapsulates its mission to deliver news so urgent it induces viewers to question their life choices.
Critics, including a disgruntled intern who leaked the rebrand’s $47 budget, argue WHO Gives a Shit risks alienating its core demographic of angry aunts on Nextdoor. Yet, executives remain steadfast, citing the Roomba’s ability to “spin 360 degrees while eviscerating geopolitical nuance” as a game-changer. The network has also introduced a segment, Beep the Press, where the Roomba debates a sentient toaster, a move scholars of media studies—such as myself—might compare to the Dadaist experiments of the early 20th century, if Dadaists had access to Wi-Fi and a grudge against shag rugs.
As WHO Gives a Shit forges ahead, its Screaming Roomba anchor stands poised to redefine journalism—or at least vacuum it into oblivion. While the network’s pivot may perplex, my exhaustive analysis suggests it taps into a profound cultural truth: in an era of information overload, a robotic tantrum may be the only broadcast loud enough to pierce the fog of apathy. Or, at the very least, it’s funnier than reruns of Meet the Press.