At any rate, I am not about to attempt analysis of a myriad technologies I barely understand myself. The topic of this piece – my debut (cue coy blush) – is Television. I capitalised the word quite intentionally. I am, after all, in a position to fully appreciate the true magnitude and deep evil of this monster in a way that casual viewers never could. I write for television. Note: do not, under any circumstances, read that as pride. It was not cried out to the heavens as I beat my chest vaingloriously. Oh, no.

People frequently tell me things like: ‘Wow, at least you’re making a living doing what you love.’ Although I never truly believed this, I would try and tell it to myself repeatedly, like a mantra, hoping that perhaps it may come true. If I just found the right series, or the right producers, I would have that mystical television experience. Since I have yet to be hired on something like Six Feet Under, my hopes have all but vanished. In fact, I now hate it when someone says something like the above to me because it is simply not the case. It’s a JOB. And, like many people, I hate my job.

I suppose a big part of it is that I have no creative control, and usually that’s something writers prefer. Without going into boring (for you) and infuriating (for me) detail, the world of television production – even the smaller sub-world of television writing – is a soul destroying, often thankless and sometimes perilous one. Mediocrity is rife, and frequently partnered with outright stupidity and ignorance. How some of these people got their jobs – and keep them – is a mystery to rival the picnic at Hanging Rock. In a nauseating recent turn of events, one of these people, whose job it is to critique writing – with no qualifications, experience, or indeed, a clue – was promoted!

This kind of genius is rained down upon the writers at every stage of the process, often until any discernible trace of actual quality there may have been is completely obliterated. For what purports to be a creative endeavor, there is a spectacular lack of creativity (or even basic ability) at the top – where it counts. Then, to add insult to injury, Tom, Dick and Harry, standing around at water cooler, blame the writers. I understand why they would think that, and have long since stopped worrying about it or trying to defend myself. Still, I will admit I have a moment of shame when I have to tell someone what I do. All of that said, there are exceptions: good, capable people, trying to push the envelope as far as the post office will allow. However, the post office is still in charge (although, there seems to be some wrangling at the moment as to exactly who is in charge there).

I’m not sure exactly why I felt compelled to write all of this down – or if anyone would even be interested. I suppose it comes down to this: aside from the usual I-write-because-it’s-a-calling-I-have-to-do-it-if-I-didn’t-I-would-die stuff, my JOB makes me appreciate my other writing – my writing – that much more. The freedom of it.

I just drifted away there for long minutes, appreciating the freedom of that world. Sigh.

THE DARK SIDE OF THE BRAAI

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.

Note that we now have a group on F-F-FACEBOOK – called KKK Kwa Kwa Klan (what else?) – which you can find (after logging into Facebook, of course) by clicking here.

So enjoy, sweeties, and please have a wonderful holiday season that is splendid, safe and absolutely scandalous! We’ll of course want to hear all about it.

As always, spread the love!!

(And of course by “spread the love” we mean “link to this blog post”.)

Book Details

• Miss Kwa Kwa II: The Dark Side of the Braai by Stephen Simm
  Book homepage
  EAN: 9781770093867
  Find this book with BOOK Finder!

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’…

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• Fuzzy? Not loading? Watch on Popdeath home!

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?

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=4947131131

And now to the video! Keep scrolling…

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• Fuzzy? Not loading? Watch on Popdeath home!

In my day-to-day life I’m rather fond of so-called ‘coarse’ language. I like how expressive it is, and how people overreact to it, as though a particular arrangement of letters transforms into an ominous entity (which, of course, it can in some cases e.g. the K-word … kanga). Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to go and meet the Queen and comment on the c**ts who ruined my drive there. I’m as courteous and polite as is required; in fact, I pride myself on decorum and good manners. Most of the time, I’m nice. I reserve my ‘bad’ language for my friends. Just lately, however, I’m seriously beginning to question the philosophy of honey attracting more flies, etc. The vinegar is rising. It’s ready to spill and drench.

The fact of the matter is I am getting mighty f**king p***ed off with the air of entitlement choking up the bloody atmosphere these days. Now I’ll be the first to admit that generally I have issues with people: I tend to avoid them, and view mankind from the glass-half-empty perspective. That said, however, I always try to ensure that in my dealings with people and the world I pull my weight, deliver the goods and never take a mile when offered an inch. So it really, really, really bothers me when I don’t get the same back. And yes, I know the shtick about expectations leading to disappointment, blah-blah-blah, but I’m fed-up.

As you’ve probably guessed I’m skirting around the specifics, and I have my reasons for that. Despite this it’s the underlying issue I take issue with. I don’t feel entitled to anything. I earn what I get. And the fact that other people just expect it makes me want to pull my f**king hair out.

So it’s got me thinking that perhaps ‘nice’ is the most nefarious four-letter word around. I felt so liberated today when I filled my Facebook status with expletives. At least they’re honest (which is often not the case with ‘nice’). I hate the argument that it displays a lack of vocabulary, as though ‘flipping’ is such an impressive alternative. What a load of horses**t.

The doubt is beginning to creep in: ‘Should I be putting this in my blog?’, ‘Is it too much? Too negative?’. So I shall round off this rant before I get cold feet. It’s honest. It ain’t always sunshine, chortles and cuddles. Sometimes it’s people who seem so stupid, so morally reprehensible, so oblivious to common decency and just so gosh-darn gob-smackingly entitled that one has to wonder how they function in the real world. I hate those people. They are bloodsucking motherf**king c**sucking d**ckhead c**ts who should be slapped around until they get a clue.

I think that would be nice.

P.S. There are 89 four-letter words in the above post, for the OCD-inclined among you.

P.P.S. If any of the above words offend you, imagine flowers and fairies where the asterisks are.

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)

There’s also some exciting news in it, and a chance for YOU to add your own loud, obnoxious voice to the mix. So get reading, get typing, and then get someone else to take your calls. There’s nothing like a bit of power-play in the office to brighten up a dull day.

(you feel compelled to send this to everyone)

If you’ve made it to this point and are still reading this but don’t know why… Shame. It’s okay, we will take your presence here for naked, unfettered adoration. Thank yoo, thank yoo.

(send this to everyone you know)

We love you, FOK (Friends of Kwa Kwa)… Happy Spring! Now be sure and send this hilarious little piece of joy to everybawdy you know, love and hate. Shameless self-promotion is the best kind.

Till next time!
xxx

* KWA KWA KLAN *
Colourful Black Comedy inspired by and in diabolical allegiance with the smash novel Miss Kwa Kwa.

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?

Another proper noun I’ll stick in for today is Patti Smith, for no reason other than the fact that I just spotted her on a CD cover on my desk. Yes, I’m rambling. But after a rigorous writing session, I just need to be mindless for a few minutes, if that’s okay. I’m finding ‘Horses’ to be a wonderful background to writing. I like loud, raucous music while I work – it gets me out of the way. My other writing habit (fast becoming a superstition) is to wear this old 70s jersey that is truly something to behold: it is mostly brown (obviously) and is adorned with some groovy geometric shapes. I can imagine it was quite the visual treat in its hallucinogenic heyday. Oh, and big, flared sleeves.

I’d love some of the other writers to share their bizarre writing rituals…

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.

I should really be in bed. I promise to be perkier next time. Here’s the latest news from the KKK:

(Miss Kwa Kwa introduces the latest Kwa Kwa Klan newsletter, which you can read by clicking the images in this blog’s sidebar.)

We know you’re probably having a tough day. The phone just won’t stop ringing, and everybody wants something from you. You deserve a few moments to yourself, to relax, maybe have a few chuckles…

Look no further – here is volume 2 of the Kwa Kwa Klan newsletter! Further naughty ramblings from the world of ‘Miss Kwa Kwa’.

Our goal is to spread laughter, build a community of book-lovin’ weirdoes, and smite from the face of the earth smarmy magazine shows that tell us how to live.

Sigh. All in day’s work.

So, please, spread this piece of joy to everybody in your mailing list. Really. We need friends.

Also, we welcome your thoughts, dirty or otherwise, so drop us a line at miss.kwakwa@yahoo.com!

Till next month!

*** KWA KWA KLAN ***

The Darker Side of the Braai

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.