We here at Groupthink Books Ltd (a wholly owned subsidiary of Groupthink Industries & Holdings Incorporated) have noticed the recent trend in the publication of biographies and autobiographies by and about a whole bunch of “who-the-fuck?” deadshits and we thought we’d hop on the bandwagon before the market in “who-the-fuck?” deadshits dried up and fucked off out of it.

For example, there’s this one guy who made a living pushing a ball around a paddock with his foot and had some substance abuse issues and allegedly roughed up his girlfriend who has “written” a book just to let people know he is not a deadshit.

His name is Wayne. He’s misunderstood, that’s all, and it hurts. It hurts real bad. Poor Wayne.

There’s this woman who married a fat bloke and fucked him till he got caught for killing people. She’s “written” a book about it just in case people had the wrong impression and thought less of her because of her lifestyle choices. She too would like everyone to know that she is not a deadshit.

Her name is Roberta. She’s misunderstood, that’s all, just another true-blue little Aussie battler trying to make a go of things and it hurts. Poor Roberta.

Then there’s this other guy. His name is Mick Gatto. Just because he used to hang around with crooks and do God-only-knows-what for a living, doesn’t mean Mick is a deadshit.

So Mick has “written” a book too. To let everyone know he’s just very misunderstood. Poor Mick.

Nowadays, Mick is thought of as Australia’s answer to Sam Giancana.

Australia’s answer to “The Grapes of Wrath” is “The Castle”, just in case you need a little perspective on that. Australia’s answer to David Attenborough is Steve Irwin if you need a little more. Australia’s answer to Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow would probably be a couple of teenage shoplifters in fucking Minto.

Groupthink Books Ltd (a wholly owned subsidiary of Groupthink Industries & Holdings Incorporated) has always prided itself on publishing works of literature. Which is to say, books that are actually written by the person whose name is on the cover.

Fuck that for a joke.

Because it’s pretty obvious to anyone who’s had the misfortune to hear any of these three “so-not-deadshits” speak publicly that none of them could probably write the word “penis” on a toilet wall without a spellcheck and an editor present.

So, bugger the literature, we’re pulping the lot, tearing up all our contracts, and putting the freaks up front.

We’ve decided to hire three ghostwriters on a permanent, rotating-shift basis and set them about the writing of books about deadshits who’ve never actually done much or achieved anything of lasting worth for anyone’s benefit other than their own and who never shut up about it.

We’re calling this series “Deadshit Dialogues” and currently have 24 “books” slated for publication during 2010, all of which will be entitled “My Life” just to keep things nice and simple for the common folk.

We here at Groupthink Books Ltd (a wholly owned subsidiary of Groupthink Industries & Holdings Incorporated) are confident that our brave new publishing initiative will bring about a much needed revolution in the book industry in these troubled times. Which is to say, the continuing publication of stacks and stacks and stacks and stacks of books by and about a whole bunch of “who the fuck?” deadshits who deserve to be known and understood by squillions. That’s what they say, anyway.

So you can take “Dreams From My Father” and shove it up your arse.

Why on earth would anyone want to read about some random fucker who became the first African-American President of the United States when you can read all about the life and times of an aging and overweight ex-boxer who used to hang around with crooks in pubs and cafes pretending to be characters from a Mario Puzo novel?

That’s real life, that is. You think you know what real life is all about? You don’t know jack shit.

But now, courtesy of Groupthink Books Ltd (a wholly owned subsidiary of Groupthink Industries & Holdings Incorporated) new “Deadshit Dialogues” series, you can read all about real life and get yourself some right and proper learnings fixed to your learnin’ organ (that spongy thing inside your head, up on top).

Because books about people who actually achieve things in life aren’t worth a pinch of shit, quite frankly.