The year is 2024, Rachel's grave is still being called, the elderly woman in front of you insists on paying by check. Lior Shlain continues to sting investors in failed media ventures.
People still think that a hidden supercomputer calculates ratings according to the number of televisions that are on at that moment. It makes no sense to invite commentators who will statistically in retrospect blast the channel with another forecast that has aged particularly badly. And yet, the generals who were wrong or morally wrong live in the studios.