Ralph Waldo Emerson.

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Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Existentialist1844 » Sun Jun 07, 2009 2:44 am

Was Ralph Waldo Emerson an atheist? There are numerous atheist forums which list him as an atheist. Emerson is known to be a transcendentalist.

"Transcendentalism began as a protest against the general state of culture and society, and in particular, the state of intellectualism at Harvard and the doctrine of the Unitarian church taught at Harvard Divinity School. Among transcendentalists' core beliefs was an ideal spiritual state that 'transcends' the physical and empirical and is only realized through the individual's intuition, rather than through the doctrines of established religions. "

1) Is transcendentalism linked to a personal God? If not, what was Emerson referring to?

Emerson stated: "We will walk on our own feet; we will work with our own hands; we will speak our own minds ... A nation of men will for the first time exist, because each believes himself inspired by the Divine Soul which also inspires all men."

This above quote sounds like a personal God to me. :dono: Perhaps he believed in a personal God, but didnt believe in the doctrines of established religions, as stated previously.

So, was he really an atheist? :think:
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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Hermit » Sun Jun 07, 2009 6:50 am

Existentialist1844 wrote:Was Ralph Waldo Emerson an atheist?
That really depends on what you mean with the term. A theist believes in the existence of a supernatural entity, moreover a supernatural entity that is the ultimate creator of everything. An atheist lacks such a belief. Unfortunately there is no clear line of demarcation between the two, which is why the status of the likes of Spinoza and Einstein, among others, is disputed. In so far as they believe in a transcendent, supernatural entity, they are not atheists, but in so far as they make no claim that such an entity was the ultimate creator of everything they are not theists - or possibly not even deists - either.

I looked up Emerson's 1837 oration titled The American Scholar and decided that perhaps he is a theist, perhaps a deist, but certainly not an atheist. Ultimately I don't care. His wishy-washy utterances probably resonate well with many New Agers, and I don't care for their beliefs either.
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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by The Curious Squid » Sun Jun 07, 2009 11:04 am

I've never really heard about Transcendentalism before and will read up on it a bit before I make any guesses at his world view but from this snippet alone it does sound like he's a bit too hung up on spirituality to be considered an atheist.
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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Existentialist1844 » Sun Jun 07, 2009 2:39 pm

Seraph wrote:
Existentialist1844 wrote:Was Ralph Waldo Emerson an atheist?
That really depends on what you mean with the term. A theist believes in the existence of a supernatural entity, moreover a supernatural entity that is the ultimate creator of everything. An atheist lacks such a belief. Unfortunately there is no clear line of demarcation between the two, which is why the status of the likes of Spinoza and Einstein, among others, is disputed. In so far as they believe in a transcendent, supernatural entity, they are not atheists, but in so far as they make no claim that such an entity was the ultimate creator of everything they are not theists - or possibly not even deists - either.

I looked up Emerson's 1837 oration titled The American Scholar and decided that perhaps he is a theist, perhaps a deist, but certainly not an atheist. Ultimately I don't care. His wishy-washy utterances probably resonate well with many New Agers, and I don't care for their beliefs either.
Yeah, I was thinking that he definitely wasn't an atheist.

But some of his writings are very good. I mean, I enjoy them.

Yes, New Age makes me LOL. :hehe:
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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Red Katie » Sun Jun 07, 2009 7:03 pm

Seraph wrote:Ultimately I don't care. His wishy-washy utterances...
Well said.

Edit: Not to mention his piss poor poetry.
"Her eye was on the sparrow. Her mind was on the dove,
But no one cared and no one dared to speak to her of love.
Her eyes are always hooded. Her claws are sharp as steel.
We teach her not to see too much. We teach her not to feel."

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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Existentialist1844 » Sun Jun 07, 2009 7:04 pm

Red Katie wrote:
Seraph wrote:Ultimately I don't care. His wishy-washy utterances...
Well said.

Edit: Not to mention his piss poor poetry.
For poetry, I prefer Walt Whitman. Though, Im not into poetry that much.
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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Red Katie » Sun Jun 07, 2009 7:10 pm

Whitman has some beautiful passages, but you have to wade through so much crap to find them. I prefer Emily Dickinson.
"Her eye was on the sparrow. Her mind was on the dove,
But no one cared and no one dared to speak to her of love.
Her eyes are always hooded. Her claws are sharp as steel.
We teach her not to see too much. We teach her not to feel."

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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by ScholasticSpastic » Sat Jun 20, 2009 2:05 am

I enjoy quite a few poems by Allen Ginsberg.

Please Master:
Allen Ginsberg wrote:Please master can I touch your cheeck
please master can I kneel at your feet
please master can I loosen your blue pants
please master can I gaze at your golden haired belly
please master can I have your thighs bare to my eyes
please master can I take off my clothes below your chair
please master can I can I kiss your ankles and soul
please master can I touch lips to your hard muscle hairless thigh
please master can I lay my ear pressed to your stomach
please master can I wrap my arms around your white ass
please master can I lick your groin gurled with blond soft fur
please master can I touch my tongue to your rosy asshole
please master may I pass my face to your balls,
please master order me down on the floor,
please master tell me to lick your thick shaft
please master put your rough hands on my bald hairy skull
please master press my mouth to your prick-heart
please master press my face into your belly, pull me slowly strong thumbed
till your dumb hardness fills my throat to the base
till I swallow and taste your delicate flesh-hot prick barrel veined Please
Mater push my shoulders away and stare in my eyes, & make me bend over
the table
please master grab my thighs and lift my ass to your waist
please master your hand's rough stroke on my neck your palm down to my
backside
please master push me, my feet on chairs, till my hole feels the breath of
your spit and your thumb stroke
please master make my say Please Master Fuck me now Please
Master grease my balls and hairmouth with sweet vaselines
please master stroke your shaft with white creams
please master touch your cock head to my wrinkled self-hole
please master push it in gently, your elbows enwrapped round my breast
your arms passing down to my belly, my penis you touch w/ your fingers
please master shove it in me a little, a little, a little,
please master sink your droor thing down my behind
& please master make me wiggle my rear to eat up the prick trunk
till my asshalfs cuddle your thighs, my back bent over,
till I'm alone sticking out, your sword stuck throbbing in me
please master pull out and slowly roll onto the bottom
please master lunge it again, and withdraw the tip
please please master fuck me again with your self, please fuck me Please
Master drive down till it hurts me the softness the
Softness please master make love to my ass, give body to center, & fuck me
for good like a girl,
tenderly clasp me please master I take me to thee,
& drive in my belly your selfsame sweet heat-rood
you fingered in solitude Denver or Brooklyn or fucked in a maiden in Paris
carlots
please master drive me thy vehicle, body of love drops, sweat fuck
body of tenderness, Give me your dogh fuck faster
please master make me go moan on the table
Go moan O please master do fuck me like that
in your rhythm thrill-plunge & pull-back-bounce & push down
till I loosen my asshole a dog on the table yelping with terror delight to be
loved
Please master call me a dog, an ass beast, a wet asshole,
& fuck me more violent, my eyes hid with your palms round my skull
& plunge down in a brutal hard lash thru soft drip-fish
& throb thru five seconds to spurt out your semen heat
over & over, bamming it in while I cry out your name I do love you
please Master.
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Re: Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Post by Red Katie » Sun Jun 21, 2009 9:27 pm

Ginsburg was like Whitman, only more crap to wade through. He has half-a-dozen poems that are absolutely sterling, and volumes of unreadable bullshit.

Here is one of the sterling ones, and one of my all-time favorite poems (I hope to God I haven't already posted it):

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked
down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking
at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon
fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at
night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!
--and you, García Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking
among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops?
What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you,
and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy
tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the
cashier.

Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in a hour.
Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and
feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade
to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automo-
biles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America
did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a
smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of
Lethe?

--Berkeley, 1955
"Her eye was on the sparrow. Her mind was on the dove,
But no one cared and no one dared to speak to her of love.
Her eyes are always hooded. Her claws are sharp as steel.
We teach her not to see too much. We teach her not to feel."

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