- published: 13 Sep 2012
- views: 236813
Tabula rasa is the epistemological theory that individuals are born without built-in mental content and that their knowledge comes from experience and perception. Generally proponents of the tabula rasa thesis favour the "nurture" side of the nature versus nurture debate, when it comes to aspects of one's personality, social and emotional behaviour, and intelligence. The term in Latin equates to the English "blank slate" (or more accurately, "erased slate") (which refers to writing on a slate sheet in chalk) but comes from the Roman tabula or wax tablet, used for notes, which was blanked by heating the wax and then smoothing it to give a tabula rasa.
In Western philosophy, traces of the idea that came to be called the tabula rasa appear as early as the writings of Aristotle. Aristotle writes of the unscribed tablet in what is probably the first textbook of psychology in the Western canon, his treatise "Περί Ψυχῆς" (De Anima or On the Soul, Book III, chapter 4). However, besides some arguments by the Stoics and Peripatetics, the notion of the mind as a blank slate went largely unnoticed for more than 1,000 years.
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TABULA RASA-ΧΡΙΣΤΙΝΑ
Moderation is a lucky friend
Out of trouble, straightened lines
Clean your teeth and get to bed on time
Can’t recall why I’ve been so afraid
Of the dim and quiet life
Head in the clouds and both feet in my grave
Bang, bang goes the little clock again
It will want you always
Troubles, troubles
One can’t comprehend
Why every game you play is rigged
Did young John Mellor ever lose a day?
Found himself in bed and like a car crash wonder how he’s walked away?
I declare the past the enemy
Things much better left unsaid
Are dead and gone and they can’t bother me
Bang, bang goes the little clock again
It’ll haunt you always
Co-conspirators and sordid friends
Have we another round to give?
Precious rites
Hapless call
Lost in the magic of it all
Know this feeling, feeling on the mend
Know the promise, know the lie
Know the fall and never question why
Light a candle to that solemn saint
Patron of the turning leaf
On and on and on forever
Bang, bang, bang goes the little clock again
It’ll haunt you always
World of wonder one can’t comprehend
Why every game you play is rigged
Precious rites
Hapless call
Lost in the mystery of it all