The world of puzzles and games is larger than constructors and game designers. There are artists, writers, editors, wordsmiths, hosts, musicians, and influences that help shape puzzles and games in so many different ways. Their efforts enrich and popularize these beloved pastimes, contributing to the world by celebrating wordplay, creativity, and nerdy pursuits.

And sadly, the world grew a little less witty, a little less clever, and a lot less bold and outspoken about so many important topics when Tom Lehrer passed away a few days ago.

It’s hard to know where to begin.

How do you describe the cultural influence of a man whose songs still delight, inform, and push boundaries today, even though he wrote most of them over sixty years ago?

How do you describe a successful musician who walked away from public performance after three brilliant albums — thirty-seven songs, each an intricately-crafted dissection of some aspect of culture, science, or current events, often as poignant and sharp-tongued as they were hilarious — and spent the bulk of his life as a teacher and college professor instead?

How do you describe the genius of a man for whom wordplay flowed as easily as scientific lingo or political commentary, a man who could make you laugh (and think, really think) about nuclear annihilation, questionable post-war government programs, or even the Catholic Church itself?

His influence on pop culture can’t be overestimated. Across generations, his songs educated and inspired, and his legacy is bulletproof. He created songs for The Electric Company, Square One TV, and That Was The Week That Was. (Those shows were decades apart!)

He inspired performers like “Weird Al” Yankovic, and I think his fingerprints are unmistakable on other hilarious and educational projects, like the songs of Randy Rogel for Animaniacs. (Trust me, you can’t listen to “the Multiplication song” from Animaniacs and NOT think of Lehrer’s “New Math”.)

Tom retired from live performance in the late 1960s, having felt like he’d said everything he wanted to say with his music. (Plus, as he famously pointed out, “political satire became obsolete when Henry Kissinger was awarded the Nobel peace prize.”)

But his songs wouldn’t be denied.

Dr. Demento’s radio show brought Lehrer’s work to new ears in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, and Honest2Betsy has brought him to yet another generation’s attention with her videos over the last few years.

His songs are timeless. “The Elements” alone has appeared in Better Call Saul, NCIS, Gilmore Girls, and The Big Bang Theory. (Not to mention Daniel Radcliffe’s famous rendition of the song on The Graham Norton Show, where he called Lehrer his hero. This actually led to Radcliffe starring in the film Weird: The Al Yankovic Story.)

Speaking of “Weird Al,” his New York Times crossword puzzle with constructor Eric Berlin namedropped Tom as part of the grid fill in this pun-heavy collaboration:

And it is a love of wordplay that sparked this tribute today.

Lehrer’s work is absolutely riddled with clever puns, comedic craftsmanship, and playing with the listener’s expectations: all things that great crossword cluing employs.

You can’t listen to songs like “Silent E” or “Without an S” and NOT imagine clues or themes that Lehrer’s linguistic legerdemain could inspire.

Not to mention this gem:

There’s a playfulness there, paired with technique, creativity, and an absolute willingness to bend conventions to their breaking point in order to make something new. How can you not love it?

But wordplay, commentary, and scientific and mathematical literacy weren’t Lehrer’s only gifts to the world.

He claimed to have invented the jello shot while in the military (to skirt rules about alcohol consumption). He wrote the song “Don’t Major in Physics,” which would have been good advice to me in freshman year of college, had I cared to listen.

And he also made the incredible gesture in 2022 of transferring the music and lyrics for all the songs he had ever written into the public domain. He relinquished the copyright and performing/recording rights for his songs as well, making his music and lyrics free for anyone to use. Downloadable lyric and music files are available on his website.

His statement releasing all his works into the public domain concluded with this note: “This website will be shut down at some date in the not too distant future, so if you want to download anything, don’t wait too long.”

For now, at least, the website remains online.

And it seems so apropos that the man who walked away from music decades ago to share his love of mathematics, science, and teaching with others is also the man who would happily sign away the rights to his music to enrich the lives of others once again.

The humanities and the STEM fields both owe Tom Lehrer a debt that can never be repaid.

The world was blessed with his presence for 97 years, and I have no doubt that his words, his music, and the forceful spirit that infused both will be around for many many years to come.

Farewell, Tom. Thanks for warning us about Shakespeare.

Oh, and for this lovely little ditty: