In what media insiders are calling “the most unexpected resignation since the Pope discovered Grindr,” Rupert Murdoch has stepped down from his role overseeing The Sun after a profound psilocybin journey in which he claims he “merged with the infinite consciousness of the universe” and “finally saw what a bastard I am.”
The 94-year-old media mogul, long accused of single-handedly lowering the collective IQ of Britain to the point where most citizens now believe the moon is “probably fake,” reportedly ingested a heroic dose of mushrooms during a private retreat in the Montana wilderness. According to witnesses, Murdoch began the session by complaining about “hippie bullshit” but, within an hour, was “sobbing into the sand and hugging a cactus like it was his firstborn.”
“I looked into the rabbit’s eyes,” Murdoch said in a shaky voice during a press conference where, for the first time in history, he wore a tie-dye t-shirt. “And I saw myself. And then I saw myself. Not the Rupert who manipulates headlines for sport, but the deeper, universal Rupert, who is just another strand in the cosmic tapestry. And then I realised that Rupert was an arsehole.”
A Monster Unmasked Murdoch claims that at the peak of the trip, his ego “dissolved entirely” and he was forced to confront the reality of his decades-long career.
“I was floating in a boundless ocean of love,” he said, “and then suddenly a newspaper washed up next to me. On the front page was some celebrity’s cellulite, an immigrant panic headline, and a pun about Princess Diana’s ghost. And I thought… who prints this? Who could possibly be so petty, so cynical, so devoid of compassion? Then I realised… oh god, it’s me.”
Shaken, he emerged from the forest with a vow to “never again work for that monstrous entity” before clarifying that the entity in question was “Rupert Murdoch, CEO.”
Side Effects Include Humanity Murdoch’s sudden burst of empathy has alarmed shareholders. News Corp stock fell 8% after he announced he would donate “everything I own” to climate change initiatives, independent journalism, and “a global fund to help tabloid victims recover their dignity.”
“He’s not thinking clearly,” said longtime associate Reggie Hackworth. “We’ve built an empire on the sacred principles of rage-bait and cleavage. You can’t just walk away from that because a fungus told you to love people.”
A Different Man Former employees say Murdoch’s transformation is real. “He used to walk into the newsroom and bark, ‘What’s the most shameless lie we can print today?’” recalled one editor. “Now he just wanders around barefoot asking people if they’ve hydrated and whether they’ve ever considered that consciousness is a shared dream.”
Murdoch says he plans to spend his remaining years “repairing the karmic damage” he’s caused, which he estimates to be “roughly equivalent to giving every child on Earth a pack of cigarettes and a Facebook account.”
“I can’t work for that monster anymore,” Murdoch repeated, before staring wistfully into the distance. “Also, does anyone else’s hand feel like it’s made of warm bread right now?”
Authorities have confirmed that Murdoch’s upcoming memoir, From Sun to Son: My Journey from Media Mogul to Mushroom Shaman, will be released next spring, printed entirely on hemp paper and bundled with a packet of mycelium spores “so readers can begin their own journey to self-annihilation.”