Please, Rupert. I’m begging you. Do this. See what happens. Here’s a tip: Google (and the rest of us) don’t need you. You need us. We’re your audience.
It’s hard to read this and not imagine News Corps’ chairman, Rupert Murdoch, standing on a beach, impotent, shouting and swinging his tiny fists at the ocean waves. “THIS BEACH BELONGS TO ME,” he’d scream.
Money can’t buy you control of the waves, Rupert. At least, not yet, anyway.