Hmm, Baronlando, I think -1 just proved your point. Obviously your examples were pretty good after all.
In all those cases the original ones are what stood the test of time, and the sequels mostly forgotten. He said without any sequels to SW we would be bored, complaining about the originals, or complaining about the lack of anything new.
Yet people are not doing that to the movies Baronlando mentioned, people still priase those movies as great movies regardless of their crappy sequels and lack of new material being released every week to three years. Star Wars would have been the same way had the maverick film maker who fought the system and won not gone through the strange transformation that forever changed him from rogue film maker into hardcore business man. Effectively he did to himself what he was afraid the studio system would do to him, instead of the studios taking his original creative ideas and dragging them through the mud by marketing and overusing them to death, he decided to fill that role himself. Almost like it was destined to happen.
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In an alternative universe, old George Lucas looks at his precious film franchise, now a mangled shadow of the great idea it once was. George clinches his fists and grinds his teeth as he remembers what they did to his space opera, what they turned it into. Nine movies and three TV shows, countless hours of Star Wars. What was once seen by the world as something creative, exciting, and new, was now viewed as something old and tired, just another silly franchise having the last drops of blood drained from it. George's face was now red with anger. If only he could have kept them from taking control of his movies. If only he could have somehow kept creative control in his own hands, this never would have happened. Slowly, inhaling deeply, George unclenched his hands, relaxed, and exhaled. If only he could change things. If only it were possible to go back all those years ago and explain to his youngself the importance of keeping creative control to himself. If only it were possible. George's scowl changed to a wild grin. Maybe it was possible after all. The old man lifted his gaze from the floor up to the blue prints hanging on his wall, grinning wider still. They had come to him at great cost, but that was of little concern, he could afford it. Building the machine would likely cost him his entire fortune, and some of the parts would have to be aquired by less than honest means. But that didn't matter, if this worked everything would be altered and the last few decades as he knew them will have never taken place. What George didn't know, is that the universe has a way of correcting itself. Fate cannot be changed.