Tag: Tom Lehrer

R.I.P., Tom Lehrer

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 13 Comments
“And this is what he said on / his way to Armageddon. …”

I have no idea where or when I made the acquaintance of Tom Lehrer, who has gone west on us at the ripe old age of 97.

But I was immediately enthralled. What a mind!

I couldn’t do math at gunpoint. What few resources I possessed were directed at trying (and often failing) to make people laugh.

But Tom Lehrer could do both, and seemingly with ease. Numbers and words alike danced to his merrily sardonic tunes.

In the end, he chose academia over comedy. I expect his GPA was a wee bit more impressive than mine. At the age of 18 he received his bachelor’s degree in mathematics from Harvard; at that age I was a freshman on drugs and academic probation at Adams State College in Alamosa, Colo.

As Lehrer’s obit in The New York Times recounts:

His music was ultimately just a momentary detour in an academic career that included teaching posts at Harvard, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the University of California, and even a stint with the Atomic Energy Commission.

I never caught his mathematical act at those venues. But I saw him perform on TV a time or two, and heard him now and then on FM radio, both freeform and public. My faves were “Wernher von Braun,” “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park,” “The Vatican Rag,” and “A Song for World War III,” which I suspect may have inspired Randy Newman’s “Political Science.”

And five years before he left us on Saturday, he remembered us in his will. Well, on his website, anyway, where he announced that:

[A]ll the lyrics on this website, whether published or unpublished, copyrighted or uncopyrighted, may be downloaded and used in any manner whatsoever, without requiring any further permission from me or any payment to me or to anyone else.

In other words, he relinquished the rights to all his songs, except for the melodies of a few that used his words but someone else’s music.

The curtain may have rung down, but his satirical legacy survives. So long, Tom, you never dropped a bomb.

Doing it old school, or ‘Yeah! Science (fiction)!’

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 16 Comments
A script from the Before-Time, possibly written by Dr. Eleven. Or that “Mad Blog” fella.

I always liked science fiction. Science, not so much.

Science always seemed rigid and impersonal. But science fiction, or speculative fiction, if you prefer — especially of the apocalyptic variety — spoke to the gloomy bog-trotter in my DNA.

So I studied the fiction instead of the science, with predictable results. When it came time for me to go to college, there was only one in the state that would accept me with my miserable GPA. However, the institution excused me from freshman comp because I was a fool for words, as long as there were no equations to solve.

SF seems best to me when the future isn’t pretty, but people manage to muddle through somehow. “A Clockwork Orange.” “Alas, Babylon.” Or “Station Eleven.”

We watched the “Station Eleven” TV series on Max, recently watched it again, and afterward I finally got around to reading the book, which as usual is considerably different. Author Emily St. John Mandel was gracious about the changes, though, saying she thought the series “deepened the story in a lot of really interesting ways.”

I doubt that I’m adding any significant depth with this latest episode of Radio Free Dogpatch, but the notions contained therein have been taking up space in my head for a while now and the Voices would like them to leave. They’re your problem now.

• Technical notes: RFD favors the Ethos mic from Earthworks Audio; Audio-Technica ATH-M50X headphones; Zoom H5 Handy Recorder; Apple’s GarageBand, and Auphonic for a wash and brushup. NASA noises, starship flyby, countryside ambience and appreciative audience come from Zapsplat. “Wernher von Braun” is the work of the inimitable Tom Lehrer. The Celtic tune is from Freesound. And the outro clip is from The Firesign Theatre’s “I Think We’re All Bozos On This Bus,” which remains all too relevant. All other evil racket is courtesy of Your Humble Narrator.

Thanks to Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke for “2001,” Gene Roddenberry for “Star Trek,” Emily St. John Mandel for “Station Eleven,” Pat Frank for “Alas, Babylon,” Stephen King for “The Stand,” and The Firesign Theatre for … well, for everything.

Papal bull

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments

If you live long enough, despite the flu’s best efforts, you’re bound to learn something.

Knights in white satin.

For instance, in my ignorance, I always thought that the phrase “Kill ’em all, let God sort ’em out” was of comparatively recent coinage. It sounds like something U.S. Col. John “Nits Make Lice” Chivington might have said at the Sand Creek Massacre. Or maybe Lt. Col. Allen “Islam is Not a Religion” West while torturing a captive in Iraq.

But according to Charles P. Pierce, who recently took note of a New Republic piece on a fondness among the right-wing intelligentsia for the good old days of medieval Catholicism and other European niceties — “Constitutionalism, Enlightenment rationality, religious freedom, and republicanism are out. European aristocracy, crusading holy orders, and mysticism are in,” — writes Graham Gallagher — the phrase has its roots in the 13th-century papal crusade against the Cathars in southern France.

Here’s Charlie:

Back in those days, of course, Roman Catholicism had armies and its temporal power was unsurpassed. Theological disputes were conducted at the point of a sword. The crusade against the Cathars in the south of France killed more than a million people, many of whom died simply because of where they lived. It was this latter sanctified savagery that gave us the infamous battle plan explained by Arnaud Amalric, a Cistercian monk and the official ambassador from Rome to the armies arrayed against the Cathars. Before the crusaders massacred almost everyone in the town of Beziers, Amalric is reputed to have said, “Kill them all. God will know his own.”

And you thought it was an inconvenience when the Jehovah’s Witnesses came calling, brandishing their Watchtowers. Just wait until a flying squad of these new warrior monks rings your bell. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and suggest that the intellectual heirs of these ring-kissing brigands might not be fans of Tom Lehrer.