‘Television… the modern day answer to ritual worship. Both tree of knowledge and cancer of brain to my generation.’ This line is from the very first Miss Kwa Kwa play I wrote, and when the first book was published the line made it into there too. When I wrote the line, I was quite a bit younger (22) and didn’t feel there was a generation below me yet. » read more
The book’s available at all good book stores now. The newsletter’s available hither and thither, including directly below. This month’s mayhem contains the kind of thing you’re used to by now, and an excerpt from the new novel, so enjoy.
The monologue that’s had thousands of South Africans in stitches over the last few years. Posted in honour of the new book out, The Dark Side of the Braai.
This is some of the material that started it all. You’ve seen the footage before, but it’s quite nicely repackaged! Hear Miss Kwa Kwa on: Thabo Mbeki, Jacob Zuma and Ten Years of Democracy!
And watch her busk her way to fame… Keep on scrollin’…
Just had to let you know that the first trailer for the new book is now available for the world to see on YouTube!! Check it out below, and be sure to share it with everybuddy.
There are more bizarre teasers and bits of zany entertainment coming. If you’re not already on our KKK (Kwa Kwa Klan) Facebook group, why not join today?
And now to the video! Keep scrolling…
I’m so angry that I’m finding it difficult not to colour this post with various four-letter words. Today I’m having a particularly bad reaction to the disease of our age – Entitlement. The kind of reaction that inspires a multitude of venomous obscenities. » read more
Well, here we are with the July/August edition of the Kwa Kwa Klan newsletter! It’s a bit late, but you’ll read why. To make up for it, our third offering is darker and sharper than ever, so enjoy.
(send this to everyone)
I have my fingers in the socket and smoke coming off my head – in the painful way, and the thrilling way. Writing a book. I sometimes… no, often wonder what drives writers to do what they do. Sometimes it seems so bizarre, this drive/desire/compulsion to expend so much time and energy fixating on people and situations that don’t actually exist! I mean I see the appeal from the other side – it’s great fun getting lost in fiction i.e. reading it. But making it? It’s strange. Writers are strange.
That said, I love it. Except when I hate it. Sometimes it’s what I live for. Except when it’s killing me. This all sounds melodramatic, but I hope someone out there relates. If you do, you are strange too. But that’s okay.
Hmm, I suddenly feel this pressure to use a few proper nouns, so that this will be tagged. Well, okey-dokey, I read that, after decades of writing, Henry James decided that fiction was pointless and abandoned it to solely write poetry. Anyone have any thoughts on that?
I suppose I should open with something that gets the formula of warm/funny/light just right. Well, nothing like that springs to mind, so I shall merely say: welcome, welcome. Thanks for coming. It’s just after midnight right now. My cats are tearing around the place, raising hell. I really should be in bed, having worked very late last night getting a script done. But I’m just a night owl, and fighting it seems to be a losing battle.
Exciting things are happening in the world of Miss Kwa Kwa. We have a small but very devoted following dubbed the KKK, or Kwa Kwa Klan (not to be confused with the antisocial Yanks in white dresses). We have just sent out the 2nd newsletter for the KKK, and set up an email address. So if you would like the newsletter sent to you, or would simply like to drop us a line, read on for the details.
The braai is so much more than a social event or a meal. It is a ritual, an experience, perhaps the closest thing to a meditative state many of us will achieve. Even the vegetarians know that. Sometimes, however, things get burned, fights break out and somebody gets naked. And covered in potato salad. What does this have to do with the book you’re scanning curiously? MK has a big problem – she has woken up a week later than she went to bed. Somebody has been feeding her cat. She has no explanation for it, but is smart enough to know it can’t be good. In Johannesburg and Cape Town, sinister plots are afoot, and MK u no stranger to the deep end u may just be in over her head. The lady usually causing all the trouble now faces it from all sides – political fanatics, a Hollywood party girl, a secret agent, and most diabolical of all – local television.