We're doomed

This is how kids today write. Full text of a note that my son presented to me the other morning, intended to inspire me to let him stay home from school:

My throught is sore and i don't want to ruin my voise. My shower didn't help I am wheazey and the headeach

Well, damn, I hate having a headeach, too! And it's so disappointing when a shower doesn't help my voise!

I let him stay home, but the day of rest did not improve his spelling. At this rate, he will never get as far as eighth grade.

But he might well grow up to be president.

Good ol' Dubbya. He held a press conference on 5/31 in which I heard him say something like

to disassemble--that means: not telling the truth.

Gobsmacking, knee-slapping, fart-knocking gifted! He is a walking dictionary! (You'd think he'd know what "assembly" is, since we as Americans have the unique right to assembly.)

No one even said anything. The whole thing went uncorrected, just like the time I swore he said "subliminable," and I started jumping up and down, but no one else noticed. In fact, it just may be that people are so accustomed to Dubbya's sticking his foot in his mouth that these gaffes strike the audience like water off a duck's back. Oh, my Lord. Quick! Somebody go get the man a Webster's!