So starved for grist are the infinite screens of the Entertainment Beast that it must churn up the icons of a distant age, consume them, and disgorge them anew. Most of the time, it doesn't work. They've fucked up something, or misunderstood something; they take an opportunity to make a tin can telephone between generations and jam it down the shitter. Occasionally, very occasionally, you get Voltron: Legendary Defender.
