U.S. Students Dumber than Ever

ourth and eighth-graders tested nationwide really screwed the pooch on a recent history exam, while 12th-graders were about as dumb as expected, the Education Department announced Thursday. The Bush administration was not impressed, calling the results "a shocking wake-up call of historicalistical proportions." More than 29,000 students took the history test that's part of the National Assessment of Educational Ineptitude, known informally as "Operation: Dumbo Drop."

Among fourth-graders, 67 percent had at least a basic understanding of the concept of history itself, though few could name any specific events. 13 percent showed no sense of events happening in the past at all, beyond a vague concept of everything happening "yesterday." That was three percentage points higher than in 1994, the last time the test was given.

Some 29,600 students, 87 percent of them apparently high on drugs at the time, took the test in 2001. The randomly selected test-takers answered multiple-choice, short-answer and essay questions with only a slightly higher success rate than a control group of lab mice trying to play "Axel-F" on a small Casio keyboard during the exam. Students were alarmingly befuddled by questions like these for fourth-graders:

Pilgrims came to North American in the 1700's fleeing what in Europe?
(a) the bubonic plague.
(b) religious persecution.
(c) Napoleon's army.
(d) Godzilla.


Only 45 percent answered correctly with (b).

What was a major cause of the Civil War?
(a) East Coast rap calling out West Coast rap.
(b) People in the North and in the South disagreed over slavery.
(c) Montel Williams.
(d) The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand.


Correct answer: (b); 57 percent answered correctly.

The answers to the multiple-choice questions, however, looked like the minutes from a meeting of MENSA when compared to the short-answer section of the test. Asked to write in their own answer to the question "Who led Germany during World War II?" 57 percent of the students wrote "Arnold Schwarzenegger." The second and third most-frequent responses were no less alarming: "Tupac!" and "banana."

Deanna Norvich, an education historian and NAEI board member, called the students' answers "fuckin' hilarious" and said the seniors' scores were "about what you'd expect from a bunch of Taco Bell trainees."

"Since the seniors are very close to voting age or already have reached it, I wouldn't be at all surprised to see more professional wrestlers elected to public office in the near future. I'd be frightened if I weren't looking at the bright side: No way in hell someone younger than me is going to come and take my job in the next millennia. These kids couldn't operate a salad shooter."

She added: "Clearly, our high schools are failing to teach U.S. history well to these paste-eating morons. And by the time they're seniors there's no way you're going to get them to stop fucking and doing blow long enough to learn about Benjamin Franklin. It's just not happening."

According to the National Assessment Governing Board, the independent group that develops the NAEI for the Education Department, only 17 percent of fourth-graders scored above the "vegetable" level. Of those, 11 percent scored at the "head injury" level and another 3 percent fell into the higher "slow country cousin" grouping. Alarmingly, only 2 percent scored in the "can handle plastic silverware" group, the highest level attained in the test this year.

To be sure, many questions were tough, especially those asked of older students. An example:

There were many significant factors that led American colonists to form the First Continental Congress in 1774. Among them were colonial frustrations with laws passed by the British Parliament. What is your name?

Thirty-nine percent got that one right.

The NAEI is given in different subjects periodically, though always to predictably pathetic results that make adults feel smart again after their bank account has been drained by a ten year-old hacker. The 2001 national history test was the first given since 1994, when it was designed to test the effects of crop dusting on the nation's youth.

NAEI scores in geography are scheduled to be released this summer, with Vermont crossing its fingers that the state will be recognized for the first time ever on an NAEI exam.

President Demands More Wheels on Airplanes

Today’s Hurricanes Not Worth a Damn, Say Elderly Southerners

Stealers Wheel Win Super Bowl, Says Heavily Accented Man

Colin Farrell Claims Responsibility for Groin Injury That Sidelined Kwan

Shinto the Pinto was the nicest car anyone could ever reasonably hope to meet. He drove at reasonable speeds, signaled for turns, and hardly ever ran down baby carriages on the sidewalk merely for sport. His interior smelled like a freshly unwrapped deodorant tree, and his seat covers were refreshingly free of diarrhea stains. But still, nobody liked Shinto.

The problem was, Japanese cars had a reputation for reliability. Everybody knew you could trust a Japanese car to get you from the pig roast to the methadone clinic with no problems whatsoever. No biplane noises coming from the engine, no carbon monoxide pouring through the air vents, and no busted-out seat springs stabbing you in the ass while you drive. Life was good in a Japanese car. Unfortunately for Shinto, all of the other Japanese cars out there were Hondas and Toyotas and Nissans and they generally lived up to the stereotype, driving long hours without giving their owners a lick of trouble. Shinto was the only Japanese car anyone had ever heard of who also happened to be a Pinto, the gold standard for shitty, unreliable cars for years.

If he had been an American Pinto, nobody would have thought twice about the fact that he never ran for more than ten minutes without overheating, or the way his brakes squealed like pterodactyls whenever the pedal was touched. But everyone could tell from Shinto's accent that he was Japanese, and that's where things failed to add up.

Whenever his tires wobbled or his windshield wipers flew off in the rain, leaving the metal arms to drag across the windshield and dig grooves into the glass, people thought Shinto was just messing around or being lazy. Whenever he idled hard enough to make the cars next to him at traffic lights shake, people looked down their nose at Shinto and shook their heads. He was seen as an incredible fuck-up who couldn't do anything right, especially not being a proper Japanese car.

Kids from around the neighborhood would sneak up behind Shinto and bash his rear bumper with sledgehammers on an almost daily basis, none of them believing that Shinto really had as fragile and poorly-located gas tank as he claimed. People of all ages laughed and called him a hypochondriac when he pleaded with them to stop smashing into him from behind, claiming that even a moderate rear impact could result in his fuel tank rupturing and engulfing his entire body in a ball of flames, while his passengers would be trapped inside by his ineptly designed doors. "Suuuure Shinto," they'd say, rolling their eyes and twirling their fingers in the crazy motion around their ears.

Things just got worse and worse for Shinto, and eventually everyone started calling him "Shitbox" instead of Shinto. Everyone thought that was pretty funny, except of course for Shitbox. I mean Shinto. Then one day, a kid on a bike ran into Shinto from behind and he blew up in the biggest fireball anyone living had ever seen. There was a story about it in the paper and a picture of the kid's shoe stuck in a tree. Everyone learned an important lesson that day: that you can't judge a book by it's cover, or by its nationality. But you can judge a car by it's name and for the love of God, don't follow a Pinto too close or even bump into it with your shopping cart at the grocery store. Good lord, if that isn't a recipe to have your ass blown out through the soles of your shoes, then I don't know what is.

º Last Column: Leland Was a Flea
º more columns

I've never seen a dog smile.

Maybe dogs don't like you.

What's not to like?

It's not a dilemma for me; I don't like any kind of snot.

I never got my dilemma. For High School.

Diploma.

God Bless You.

You weren't able to finish High School?

No, and for that I blame the Finns.

At least you could have lettered on the swim team.

Nope, they were papier-mâché.

You tested them out?

Yes, in the kiddie pool. I didn't want to drown.

I think your classmates would have outvoted you on that one.

Who's Juan? I think you may have the brain fever, you're obviously confused.

At least you know you can't catch it from me.

Good point.

So what did you do after high school?

I wanted to go to culinary school in Ireland, but I couldn't find one.

You might as well face it, you love fuckin' potatoes.

Only when there aren't any ripe pumpkins handy.

Well, let's just hope Farmer Brown doesn't bring a paternity suit.

No kidding. Are those the ones with the big lapels? Yuck.

Anyone ever tell you you're a genius?

Not since I started keeping track.

Shocking, that is.

º Last Column: Angry Like a Eunuch's Long-Gone Balls
º more columns