This book is for two things. Money laundering, where they pretend he sold millions of copies, but really they only print a few and just give him a big fat check. Secondly for his ego - he gets to laugh at the commie sycophants while they prostrate themselves to him by telling their audiences how spectacular the word salad he vomited onto the pages is.

Little big ears' narcissism is epic and boundless. My sides are in orbit.