Jordi González is obfuscated because Secret Story. The house of secrets He has been weak in the audience and social networks have not welcomed him with laurel wreaths and a palmata tunic. On Sunday he complained that the format had been “dilapidated” and asked between afflicted and catilinario if he was doing television “for people who have been raised in a stable.” What happens to Arturo Bonín with Luis Perezagua in Sunrise, which is no small thing. If Nabokov’s plagiarist believed that the farmer was going to spoil the novel by misreading it, González suspects that we see the program incorrectly and we deteriorate it with cheap observations. To the apocalyptic and integrated of Umberto Eco, González has added the stables. Curious why a priori It seems that they are what he longs for: low-necked viewers and silent rumination.
The chains love interactivity when it is limited to collection purposes, the problem comes if more than collecting, it diminishes. How could they imagine when the festival of SMS and the Teleclovers that one day that interactivity could backfire. That the spectators would stop being a mere ATM and the farm would be rebelled against them. Or the stable. González is still burning with the end of Ferris wheel, when after the interview with El Cuco’s mother, the protests of the spectators caused the fright of advertisers and left him unemployed.
The ethics of a chain that finances criminals, suspected criminals or henchmen, is questionable; the freedom to do so no. They are as free to write checks to them as the public to question their necessary cooperation in doing so. Just as we are as free to declare our love for a format as to consider it, quoting the words of the long-awaited Manolo Preciado, “the last shit that Pilatos shit”.
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