In a move that has sent shockwaves through the late-night television landscape, ABC has officially parted ways with long-time host Jimmy Kimmel and tapped none other than Tucker Carlson as his replacement. Yes, that Tucker Carlson—the same man whose signature look of perpetual bewilderment has become a meme unto itself. The former Fox News anchor, known for delivering nightly doses of outrage and nationalist rhetoric, is now set to take center stage on a network that, up until now, was mostly associated with good-natured humor and celebrity interviews.

This surprising decision, though unthinkable to some, is being touted by ABC executives as a “bold new direction” for the network’s late-night programming. “We believe that Carlson brings a fresh perspective to the time slot,” said one ABC representative, possibly while suppressing laughter. “His ability to engage audiences with compelling monologues and fearless commentary will elevate late-night television to new heights.” What they failed to mention is whether those heights will be measured in Nielsen ratings or in the rising blood pressure of viewers expecting lighthearted humor.

Carlson’s arrival at ABC comes after his dramatic exit from Fox News, a departure mired in controversy, legal battles, and an exodus of advertisers who apparently weren’t keen on their brands being associated with conspiratorial tirades. But where one door closes, another opens—particularly when that door leads to a lucrative late-night deal that reportedly far surpasses Kimmel’s previous earnings. Carlson’s contract is rumored to be so extravagant that even longtime hosts like Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Fallon might start second-guessing their career choices.

Of course, Carlson’s appointment raises some pressing questions. For instance: How exactly does one transition from stoking culture wars to delivering late-night monologues? The late-night format traditionally thrives on humor, self-deprecation, and easygoing charm—qualities not typically associated with Carlson’s on-air persona. Will his opening monologues trade punchlines for policy rants? Will his guests be subjected to rapid-fire questioning about their stance on immigration instead of the usual banter about upcoming movie releases? And most importantly, will his infamous squinting expression become a permanent fixture in ABC’s promotional material?

For Kimmel’s loyal fanbase, this move feels like an especially cruel joke—one without a punchline. Kimmel, beloved for his sharp wit and heartfelt segments, often blended humor with moments of sincerity, whether advocating for healthcare reform or hosting emotional reunions for military families. His ability to balance comedy and compassion made his show a staple in the late-night world. Carlson, on the other hand, is best known for monologues that sound like a doomsday prepper’s bedtime stories and interviews that often feel like interrogations with a preordained conclusion.

The backlash to ABC’s decision has been swift, with social media ablaze with reactions ranging from sheer disbelief to outright rage. “I used to watch late-night TV to laugh before bed,” one Twitter user lamented. “Now ABC wants me to fall asleep angry and confused?” Others have speculated that this move is less about entertainment and more about capitalizing on America’s deepening ideological divide. If ABC’s goal is to tap into an audience that thrives on political outrage, then Carlson is certainly the man for the job.

Still, some industry insiders argue that ABC’s gambit could pay off in ratings. Late-night television has struggled in recent years, with declining viewership and shifting media consumption habits threatening the traditional format. By injecting Carlson into the mix, ABC may be hoping to tap into a new audience—one that prefers their bedtime programming with a side of indignation. Whether this strategy proves successful remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: this is a late-night experiment unlike any other.

As for what Carlson’s show will actually look like, details remain scarce. Will he retain the classic late-night staples, like celebrity interviews and musical performances? Or will those segments be replaced with deep dives into controversial Supreme Court rulings and rants about the downfall of Western civilization? Perhaps viewers can look forward to a “Mean Tweets” segment where Carlson dramatically reads out criticisms of his show, only to refute each one in real-time with an intensity usually reserved for political debates.

Ultimately, this move by ABC signals a potential shift in the future of late-night television. Where the format was once a refuge for comedy and entertainment, it may now become yet another battleground in the ongoing culture war. If audiences embrace this change, we could see a future where traditional comedy is sidelined in favor of ideological punditry. If it fails, Carlson may find himself once again without a platform, forced to retreat to the digital sphere where former cable news personalities go to reinvent themselves.

For now, America can only wait and see what happens when the man who once questioned the legitimacy of M&Ms’ redesign is given a prime-time slot on a major network. Late-night television will never be the same—whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing depends entirely on who you ask.