Fahrenheit 1024

Classic sci-fi books have been often criticized for showing technologies that quickly became obsolete. Fahrenheit 451 was published in 1953. In this dystopian novel, books are banned, and they are burned by “firemen”. The author, Ray Bradbury, could not foresee (of course, no-one could) the advancements in the field of microcomputers, and the information-revolution; the concept of banning literature by burning paper books at 451 Fahrenheit is obsolete in an era when you can carry whole a library on a piece of plastic sized your thumbnail, and distribute it in seconds all around the globe.
 I will not talk about suspension of disbelief for now; as for myself, I never had a problem enjoying a fiction just because its technological predictions are obsolete. I try to focus on the ideas and creativity presented by the author, instead. Solitary planetary supercomputers, their vast capacity only used by a selected few scientists? Nifty. Aforementioned computers operating with data tapes? Charming. Input handled by punch cards? Delicious.
But other times, they make chilling predictions, and not on the technical side:

"More sports for everyone, group spirit, fun, and you don't have to think, eh? Organize and organize and superorganize super-super sports. More cartoons in books. More pictures. The mind drinks less and less. Impatience. Highways full of crowds going somewhere, somewhere, somewhere, nowhere. The gasoline refugee. Towns turn into motels, people in nomadic surges from place to place, following the moon tides, living tonight in the room where you slept this noon and I the night before." 

Dead on. Can you name a country where the football coach of the university earns more than the dean?