A Proposal For The Carolina/Clemson Rivalry

Thoughtful Gamecock

Those of us who have grown up in the state of South Carolina know the rivalry between the University of South Carolina Fighting Gamecocks and the Clemson Tigers for what it is:  one of the most bitter, emotionally supercharged and longest-running rivalries in all of college sports.  Those who have not been born into this war, even fans familiar with the college football landscape, are awestruck with the level of passion and intensity it inspires, often comparing it to the great rivalries from across the nation; Miami/Florida State, Texas/Oklahoma and the gold standard of college sports hatred, Alabama/Auburn.  Yet, our annual in-state contest remains something of a secret to most of the nation, despite being the third-longest running rivalry in college football.  Our big game doesn’t even have a proper name, allowing it to be eclipsed by contests with catchy handles like the Iron Bowl, The Red River Rivalry, and…

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I wrote more shitty poetry… took a picture and posted it to Instagram… where you should follow me, by the way @brotherarson . You might have found that picture and this blog post via twitter where you should also follow me @BrotherArson . Of course, if you got this far from Facebook… you can add me on snapchat: brotherarson.

With so much existence
in myriad form, and splendid,
How cursed are we as mortal men
to be so quickly ended?
The grandeur and the scale of it,
of all that is surrounding us
to be twice cursed by knowing it
for we are born with consciousness.
The greatest minds amongus
have striven to comprehend
How much further could they have gone
had their striving not had to end.
To live against our will and then
be privy to its wonder
until to soon against our will again
our bodies rent asunder.
Our will for naught our consciousness,
call it our soul if you prefer,
is to the rest made meaningless
even if it’s not interred.
For sans a vessel to convey
our will, we are but shadows,
cast here to quickly dance away
by stars, much like the candles.

On the paperwork

On the paperwork, I always mark “other”

I do this to not disrespect my mother,

or her sisters

Hanne und Christa

who are as much Aunties to me

as Joan, Rhett, Fran and Mamie-Lee.

Or my cousins, Simon, Jonathan und Franciska

Who are as much my cousins as Alfon,  Eric and Aliska.

On the paperwork, I always mark “other”

But in public, I’m a “brother”.

When my hair grows out, it grows OUT.

So people think they know what I’m about.

Big butts, hip-hop and fried chicken.

They can’t conceive of the fact that I listen

to Mozart, Udo Jürgens and Xavier Naidoo.

That Rouladen are my comfort food.

And if I really had to choose…

Yeah, I like big butts!

On the paperwork, I always mark “other”

But in the “real world” I’m black!

That means I’ve got to watch my back,

for rednecks and Klan and cops .

And sometimes, redneck Klan cops.

And even though I’m a “brother”

my “brothers” are shooting each other.

Purses clutched tighter

by girls who are whiter

than me,

but not my family.

On the paperwork, I always mark “other”.

Not to be less of this, or more “anything else”

It’s always been about being myself.

Honest and whole, and free

of the stereotypes and the “woe is me”

of the struggle for racial identity.

I’m BOTH… equally!

But when I can only “choose one”

on the paperwork, I always mark “other”.