Rupert Murdoch and son James have publicly declared themselves passé.
In a watershed media moment, Murdoch Snr foamed at the mouth, declaring that the days of indulging "content kleptomaniacs" would shortly end, exactly like everything else about life and the universe as we know it, apparently.
Son James, young and agile enough to know better, drooled with equal rage against free access to content on the interwebs.
Ignomunious douchebugs, nitwits, dimwits, pinheads, dunces, simpletons, ninnies, dunderheads, nincompoops, blockheads, numskulls, dumb bunnies, not to mention silly geese.
It's clear that the divide between old and new media models has reached the precipice, spurred on, perhaps prematurely, by old Murdoch - Viagra hey, gives with one hand, ends too quickly with the other.
No need for me to link to an article.
You can read reports, first hand accounts and analysis on, oooh, approximately 15,000,000 freely accessible world wide web sites - all of which will provide accurate coverage of the deliquescent Murdoch.