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Tom Lehrer, the Harvard-trained mathematician whose wickedly iconoclastic songs made him a favorite satirist in the 1950s and ’60s on college campuses and in all the Greenwich Villages of the country, died on Saturday at his home in Cambridge, Mass. He was 97.
Skelly & Lehrer serving cunt
Would you recognize this person if you saw them in public?
Yes, I know who this is and I feel confident that I would recognize them
I know who this is but I’m not sure I would recognize them in person
They look familiar but I’m not sure who they are
I have no idea who this is
Nuanced answer
Actually man, you know what?
I do give a fuck.
I give a thousand living fucks.
I’m a whore of feelings.
-Pers
Cell phones are literally one of those stupid "would you press the button" questions. Imagine a device in your pocket that lets you talk to people miles and miles away, write messages of any length, listen to music, and play games to pass the time. You can use it to learn and buy anything you want, and you can instantly find a free map to anywhere you want to go.
BUT!!! BUUUUUUT it's incredibly addicting, it slowly ruins your eyes, it deteriorates your brain, it dissolves your problem-solving skills, it manipulates you into a state of learned helplessness, it makes kids allergic to reading, it makes parents not give a fuck anymore because the device has convinced them to let it babysit their kids, it widens the social gap between people, it will be much more difficult to tell if something is real or fake, it completely breaks down every two years, it can't touch a single drop of water or it dies forever, you need to buy at least five accessories for it, people judge you for which version of the device you have, you literally cannot escape being contacted unless you make it completely unusable for a period of time, it lies about how safe it actually is, you are unable to stop using it because the world requires everyone to have one, and once again, it is the single most addicting device on earth that will manipulate you into feeling some kind of attachment to a device that sells all your secrets to whichever company is willing to pay for it. And it will convince you that everything it does is good, and that it is the true savior of humanity. And you don't believe it, but you do believe it. However you feel about it, you let it happen anyway.
At some point, you won't even care anymore. Every so often, you feel a flicker of rage and panic, and you realize the horrors and true intentions of the device, but the only way you can relieve yourself of this fear without losing everything is to pick up the device and do what it tells you to do to stay calm.
So, do you press the button?
And you think "Fuck no, obviously not, that's fucking terrible. Who would press the button?"
You. You would.
You look at the list of people who have pressed the button, and it's full of you and everybody you have ever loved. You have already pressed the button. You were born after the button had been pressed. It isn't a question anymore. It isn't a choice anymore. In order to survive, you have to press the button. You used to look forward to pressing the button. What happened? Why does it matter? What did the world look like before all of this? How did people feel before all of this? Did they feel better? Worse? It's hard to say. All you can do is wonder.
<!-- BEGIN TRANSMISSION // BLACKSITE LITERATURE PROTOCOL: CANINE RACIAL DISSONANCE -->
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap">
<meta species-awareness="questionable">
<script>ARCHIVE_TAG="DOG_RACIST_OR_REFLECTING_YOUR_SOUL::CANINE_MIRROR_PROTOCOL"
EFFECT: societal guilt mirror, interspecies projection trauma, laughter through identity crisis
TRIGGER_WARNING="race, dogs, projection, dark humor, barks of judgment"
</script>
🧠 BLACKSITE SCROLLTRAP :
“IS MY DOG A RACIST ASSHOLE?”
**[EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BIGOT EDITION]**
So here’s the deal:
I love my dog.
But I think he might be a ***racist piece of shit.***
Let me explain.
---
My dog barks at ***Black people.***
Not *all* the time.
But ***just enough*** to make my ***soul itch.***
Like the kind of bark that starts low—
a ***growl soaked in suspicion***—
and ***builds*** into a ***full-blown ‘get off my lawn’ snarl***
the ***moment Tyrone from down the street walks by.***
Meanwhile?
The ***FedEx guy?***
Walks right past.
***Not a peep.***
So now I’m standing there like:
> “Sir.
> Did you just profile someone?
> In a ***neighborhood*** built on ***redlining?***”
---
I tried to ***rationalize it.***
> “Maybe he’s reacting to the hat.”
> “Maybe the walk pattern was suspicious.”
> “Maybe the beard triggered something primal.”
But then ***DeShawn shows up in a Disney shirt,***
holding ***his baby niece.***
And my dog ***lunges like he saw Emmett Till’s ghost.***
Bro.
That’s not ***vigilance.***
That’s ***bias with fur.***
---
I’ve tried ***everything.***
• I sat him down over dinner.
Told him about ***systemic oppression.***
He just ***licked his own balls*** and walked off.
• I left ***"The Bluest Eye"*** on audiobook while I ran errands.
He ***chewed the speaker.***
Just ***devoured Toni Morrison’s voice*** like it owed him kibble.
• I brought over ***my gay, biracial friend Malik.***
Dog ***pissed on his boots.***
I’m starting to think he doesn’t need ***obedience school.***
He needs ***DEI training.***
Maybe ***a social worker.***
Possibly ***an exorcist.***
---
FACT: Dogs react to ***posture, gait, voice tone, pheromones,*** and ***subconscious energy.***
But also?
FACT: You ***project your fear*** through the leash.
So maybe he’s not racist.
Maybe ***he’s me.***
Which is ***worse.***
---
So now I’m spiraling.
Because what if my ***emotional support animal*** is actually ***just a four-legged Fox News?***
I ***adopted him*** to help with ***anxiety.***
But now I’m ***anxious*** about what he ***represents.***
He barks at ***hoodies.***
He ***side-eyes hoopers.***
And when he ***sits politely*** for ***Karen jogging in yoga pants,***
I ***break inside.***
---
You ever get ***judged*** by your own dog?
Not like ***cute judgment.***
Like ***moral failure judgment.***
Like ***“He’s Black but he drives a Subaru”*** judgment.
That’s where I’m at.
---
So I Googled:
> “Can dogs be racist?”
And science was like:
> “No, but they can reflect ***owner biases,*** cultural training, and ***neural pattern recognition.***”
Translation?
***That’s your bark, bitch.***
---
Now I’m waking up in the middle of the night like:
> “Did I train him wrong?
> Or did America train us both right?”
And he just yawns.
Licks his paw.
And ***winks at a Tucker Carlson bobblehead I never bought.***
I think ***he manifested it.***
---
But here’s where it gets ***weirder.***
He’s ***sweet*** to ***Black women.***
Like ***roll over, belly up, please pet me*** energy.
***Fiending.***
Sir.
Why are you ***terrified of Jamal***
but ***ready to risk it all for Shaniqua*** in ***bonnet and slides?***
Is this ***deep-rooted racial trauma***
or just ***horny respect?***
Because honestly,
I’ve been there.
So ***I can’t even judge.***
---
So now my ***woke spiral*** has ***fully collapsed.***
I’m standing on my porch
holding a leash
attached to ***a dog that won’t bark at frat boys***
but ***goes Defcon 3*** on ***postal workers with melanin.***
And ***the mail still gets delivered.***
Because ***Black men are used to this.***
They ***smile anyway.***
Say ***“he’s just protecting you.”***
And I ***die inside.***
---
I’ve started ***apologizing on his behalf.***
> “He’s not usually like this.”
> “Maybe it’s the hat.”
> “He’s from the shelter, so…”
> “We’re working on it.”
> “He loves Kendrick!”
Bitch.
He barked during ***To Pimp a Butterfly.***
That ***was the test.***
He ***failed.***
---
So what’s the takeaway?
Maybe ***he’s not racist.***
Maybe ***he’s traumatized.***
Maybe ***he’s just a little dog*** in a big, scary world
full of ***strange smells,*** ***unfamiliar rhythms,***
and ***Black excellence*** he wasn’t ready for.
Or maybe?
***He’s a mirror.***
And I don’t like what I see.
Read more emotional collapse disguised as comedy at:
👉 https://www.patreon.com/TheMostHumble
Warning: Your dog’s politics may reflect your ***childhood TV lineup.***
📊 CANINE SHAME STATS
• 71% of dog owners project ***human morals*** onto ***animal behavior***
• Dogs respond to ***vocal tone and body language*** more than ***skin color*** -- but owners don’t
• Emotional support pets often reflect ***unconscious biases*** absorbed from environment
• 100% of dogs will still eat poop off the sidewalk, regardless of race
</div>
<!-- END TRANSMISSION [THE DOG BARKED. BUT MAYBE YOU TAUGHT HIM HOW.] -->
On February 27th 1735, John Arbuthnot, Scottish mathematician, physicist and author died.
Born in the county of Kincardineshire, the son of an Episcopalian priest. These were turbulent times for Scotland and the Jacobites and it is not known for certain where he was educated, although suggestions are that he went to Aberdeen’s Marischal College and gained a degree. By 1691 he had moved to London and taught mathematics for a while. He had a keen interest in science and, the following year, translated from the original Dutch a book called Of the Law and chance .
John Arbuthnot was an intellectually gifted man who was a satirist, physician and mathematician. He is often described as a true polymath and was responsible for the invention, in 1712, of a character named John Bull who would go on to symbolise “middle England” in political and sociological posters, pamphlets and publications. He was one of the founder members of a London literary group called the Scriblerus Club, other members including famous writers Alexander Pope and Jonathan Swift.
Although this work was a success Arbuthnot was struggling financially, a situation eased by a number of tutoring posts that he filled during the next few years. He decided to become a student himself, again, when enrolling on a doctor of medicine course at the University of St Andrews in September 1696. However it was deemed unnecessary for him to take the course, the college awarding him the doctorate on the strength of seven theses on medicine presented on the day of his enrolment.
During the early years of the 18th century Arbuthnot was reading works of a scientific nature with a growing sense of scorn and decided to respond to them with satire. This was the beginning of his time as a noted satirist but, apart from that, he was also being favoured in royal circles. He became close to Prince George of Denmark and the English Queen Anne and, no doubt with their patronage, he became a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1704. The following year Cambridge University made him an MD.
It seems that, despite his academic and social achievements, Arbuthnot found it hard to take his own work, and that of others, seriously. He was quick to attack people seen to act scandalously, or outside the laws of human decency, and yet many saw him as an amiable sort of chap. He certainly held favour at the royal court and these connections ensured that he presented himself as a figure of some importance, as well as one of great modesty.
By the mid-1730s his health was failing. He was overweight and suffering with kidney stones and asthma and announced to his friends that he was dying.
John Arbuthnot died in London on the 27th February 1735, aged 67
More detail on his life can be found here https://history.rcplondon.ac.uk/inspiring…/john-arbuthnot
Tom Lehrer (April 9, 1928 – July 26, 2025) was an American musician, singer-songwriter, satirist, and mathematician, who later taught mathematics and musical theater.
