#lehrers

[dunderbread]

finally. it's over. tom lehrer can live in peace.

[chungledown-bimothy]

I cannot overstate how much I love Tom Lehrer's story. It sounds so fake but is entirely real.

He's a goddamn genius- he started studying mathematics at Harvard when he was 15 and graduated magna cum laude. He worked at Los Alamos for a few years before being drafted and working for the NSA, where he claims to have invented jello shots to get around alcohol bans.

He then went back to Harvard for a couple years before starting to teach political science at MIT.

Through all of that, he was writing and performing both some of the funniest shit you'll ever hear (Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, Masochism Tango) and absolutely scathing political satire (Who's Next, Wernher von Braun, Send the Marines). Until the mid/late 60s counterculture gained momentum. He didn't like their aesthetic, so he stopped making music.

Shortly after, he moved to California and started teaching math and musical theater history at UC Santa Cruz for the next 30 years.

I don't know if non-Californians understand just how goddamn funny that is. It's where stoners and math (and now computer science) kids who couldn't get into Berkeley go. Leaving Harvard/MIT for UCSC is peak academic phoning it in. And by all accounts he had a blast.

Plus the whole putting all of his music in the public domain thing. That fucked.

[writernotwaiting]

Fearing such hits as “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park,” “National Brotherhood Week,” “The Masochism Tango,” “The Element Song,” “Be Prepared,” and “Lobachevsky”

[dailyhistoryposts]

"Political satire became obsolete when Henry Kissinger was awarded the Nobel peace prize."

-American singer-songwriter, satirist, and mathematician Tom Lehrer

[iamanathemadevice]

Tom Lehrer puts all his songs into the public domain

Apparently also his website will shut down "at some date in the not too distant future" so now's a good time to download directly.

"In short, I no longer retain any rights to any of my songs. So help yourselves, and don’t send me any money."

https://tomlehrersongs.com/

Source.

If you don’t know Tom Lehrer, you really, really should, no matter how old you are! Here’s one of my favourites - Werner von Braun:

[fence-time]

what’s more gay than cannibalising your homie?

[majestativa]

Real lovers, on the other hand, find common understanding even in the most profound silence, their every movement charged with a burning passion that has the power to bring ecstasy.

— Georges Bataille, The Sacred Conspiracy: The Internal Papers of the Secret Society of Acéphale and Lectures to the College of Sociology, transl by Natasha Lehrer, John Harman & Meyer Barash, (2017)

[biggusdichuss]

Great music by Tom Lehrer

[justsomeguy-cassavetes]

[dykeseesgod]

WHO CHEERED

[nudityandnerdery]

Tom Lehrer deserves more love, honestly.

[dhmis-autism]

Saw this guy while thrifting, reminded me of best boy!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS TO ME LEGEND.

HERE. JUST FOR YOU

ft. a fun lil song to listen to while you look at it :]

[matchingbatbites]

i hold your hand in mine, dear

For @steddie-week Day 1: Secret Relationship AND Day 2: Hands

Rating: M || CW: temporary character death, brief description of minor dismemberment, unhealthy coping mechanisms || Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Steve doesn't know why he did it.

It's just- It was beyond painful, the mere thought of leaving behind the love of his life - because that's what Eddie was, even if no one else knew. And he knew there was no way they'd be able to get him back up through a gate before El closed them off.

So while Robin helped Dustin hobble away and Nancy went out ahead of them, Steve took a chance to just. Grab a souvenir. Just something tangible to remind him that - even for just a short time - he had Eddie. They had something real.

He doesn't know why he chose to take Eddie's hand.

It was easier than expected; the knife he had was sharp enough that it sliced through skin and muscle quickly, it wedged between bone and split the joint of his wrist with ease.

The limb sat heavy in his pocket as they escaped that hellhole, as they got Dustin to the hospital to get his ankle checked out, as they reunited with their friends to talk about what happened.

Steve doesn't dare to even touch it until he gets home, until he's by himself. Waits until he's showered and cared for his own wounds before he grabs the jacket and finally pulls it free.

It should be concerning that his first instinct was to take Eddie's hand - specifically, his right hand. It's not the one usually covered in rings, but it's the one he usually touched Steve with - when he brushed a thumb over Steve's lips or cupped Steve's face in his palm.

It's the one he used whenever they held hands, always leaving Steve's own right hand free so he could still do things while they clung together.

Maybe that's why. Even with all of the stuff in Eddie's room, all of the physical mementos he could have taken for himself, Steve just couldn't live knowing he'd never hold Eddie's hand again.

The limb itself is a bit dirty, with grit and blood marring the skin, trapped under the edge of his nails. That doesn't stop him from bringing it to his lips, from pressing a gentle kiss to the tips of the fingers.

It's cold, and for some reason that's the thing that finally breaks Steve, that has him sobbing into the stillness of his room. All he can think about is the man that brought so much warmth and life to Steve's existence, laying cold and forsaken in that fucking wasteland.

That's the thought that follows him into sleep that night, that lives in the back of his mind for days. It makes him truly grateful for his morbid memento, that he's able to keep a piece of his love, able to give some of his own warmth as he holds Eddie's hand in his own.

Steve makes a habit of pulling it from the drawer every night and giving a soft kiss to fingertips that are slowly turning black. He never wonders why the fingers still bend so well, why it never smells like rot.

He doesn't even think about it until he's awoken one night by the sound of soft scratching.

It takes Steve a second to hone in on the source, everything in him on edge and ready to jump on any possible threat. But nothing else in the room shifts; there's only the gentle scraping sound continuing from his left.

He turns on the lamp and looks at his nightstand, heart pounding in his chest as he reaches over and slowly tugs the drawer open. The noise stops, and Steve just looks down at Eddie's hand.

It's not in the bandana he usually wraps it in - something he did end up pilfering from Eddie's room, along with a few shirts that he sleeps in.

It's just there, laying in the bottom of the mostly-empty drawer, innocent as anything.

Steve watches it for a moment, waiting - praying - before reaching out and just. Touching it. Just a gentle brush along the knuckles.

It flinches, and Steve gasps.

He picks the hand up and it writhes in his grip, like a feral creature attempting to escape a predator. It only makes him hold on tighter, until he's able to shift it and lace their fingers together, their favorite way of holding hands.

The hand freezes, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, can't help the soft "Eddie?" that escapes him. It squeezes back tightly, ink black fingertips pressing into his skin, and Steve knows.

Not the how or the why, but those are worries for the future. For now, he cradles Eddie's hand in his own as he lays back down, crying happy tears for once. Because it seems that, by some miracle, Eddie is alive.

[90s-music-tourney]

[ofpd]

things tom lehrer was the first person to introduce me to:

nuclear warfare (“who's next?” and “so long, mom!”)

weapons manufacturing (“wernher von braun”)

smut (“smut”)

cyanide (“poisoning pigeons in the park”)

catholic mass (“vatican rag”)

sadomasochism (“masochism tango”)

stds (“i got it from agnes”)

hindu nationalism (“national brotherhood week”)

probably more!