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Sven Eick

@ Sunday Times Books LIVE

The curious cult of Cape Town

‘But why?’

I’ve been asked this question by Capetonians at least twenty times since I made the decision to move from Cape Town to Johannesburg. Each time it’s accompanied by a look of genuine perplexity, like I’m completely insane. And while you’re reading this, I know some of you are thinking the same thing too.

The short answer, and one that’s so obvious to me that I’m not sure why I need to explain it, is that pleasant scenery aside, Cape Town sucks big hairy geographical, socio-economic and climatic balls.

Read the rest on my blog.

A Makulon’s pocket guide to hunting humans

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The arguments put forward in the story are exaggerated versions of actual arguments made on a variety of threads by a variety of people relating to the topic of canned lion hunts. Morality isn’t what it used to be, as one startled human being is about to find out…

The Makulon slowed down his breathing, raising a tentacle to wipe a dollop of sticky, silvery sweat away from a mandible.

Read the rest on my blog.

Apetown

Ape Town

Lars thinks he’s found a foolproof, virtually legal plan to earn money from pool clubs without having to do much work. But what starts out as a simple plan soon puts him on the wrong side of Costas, a Greek club owner whose wrong side you just don’t want to be on, and a man who happens to have a special plan of his own. Hampered by a single digit bank balance, an unpronounceable name and a habitually dysfunctional and distant family, Lars must now rely on his friends. Frankie (an ex-SADF soldier with homicidal tendencies), Croccy (a dope-addled Australian who hasn’t taken his shoes of since he was eighteen) and Marvin (an itinerant barman who rarely gets out of bed) to help him out of the mess.