Imagine sitting down to a casual conversation with your local member of Congress. If a new study by the Sunlight Foundation is accurate, the scenario may resemble Homer Simpson’s fictional encounter with Gerald Ford.

“Homer, do you like football?”

“Do I ever,” the oafish elder Simpson responds.

Former President Ford continues: “Do you like nachos?”

“Yes, Mr. Ford.”

“Well, why don’t you come over and watch the game and we’ll have nachos and then some beer?”

The exchange ends with the two tripping over the curb and blurting “d’oh!” in unison.

Of course, in real life Ford was an accomplished athlete, respected public servant and rather intelligent man. Tripping once as he descended the steps from Air Force One and masterminding the infamous WIN—“Whip Inflation Now”—program, complete with bumper stickers and buttons simply cast him in a different light.

According to the report, however, Congress interacts at an average grade level of 10.6, otherwise known as sophomoric. By comparison, the Declaration of Independence targets those nearing graduation from college and the Constitution requires graduate level education. As it stands, elected officials could barely understand Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic “The Scarlett Letter”, a book my colleagues read in junior high.

The data is good for a pointed laugh or two—especially as the Sunlight Foundation claims Congress’ apparent knowledge and use of the English language has plummeted since 2005, largely due to the influx of single (and many would say small) minded Tea Party types.

All ten of the lowest ranked members of Congress were Republicans, and eight had been recently elected.

To make matters worse for the Republican party, the same results show that Democrats, who once lagged behind their GOP peers in speaking level, now weave much more complexity into their banter.

D’oh, indeed.

While Congressional approval ratings—along with some of the blithering material issued by a few of America’s leaders—suggests the study may be spot on, any such report is fraught with, well…how do I put it simply?

The foundation fed every word spoken on the House and Senate floor between January of 1996 and last month through to Flesch-Kincaid, a test that, at its heart, equates longer words with higher grade levels. There is no accounting for clarity of thought, dexterity of mind, depth of the idea or even of the context in which elected officials uttered their Simpson-esque phrases.

Put through the same test, Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”, considered brilliant by most literary critics, barely rates a sixth grade level. William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies” seems best suited for lesser grade school kids. Ernest Hemingway, whose staccato phrases and pointed brevity earned him fame, eschewed the excess verbiage tantamount of a deceptively lofty Flesch-Kincaid score.

Obviously I’m bucking for a little better than Congress can manage.

It’s far too easy to accept standardized tests because they produce numbers that can be measured, with the greatest of ease, against other numbers--that’s the trap.

Such measures are at the heart of No Child Left Behind, which can easily fault classrooms loaded with poor students diligently and honestly struggling to achieve. They allow us to measure progress in war through body counts or terrorists captured, to direct accolades to those who learn by rote and toe the disciplinary line while wily, intelligent rebels earn condemnation.

Simply put, “Forescore and seven years ago” sounds clever and poetic. But “87 years back” means the exact same thing.

And I would argue that a politician’s ability to size up a situation honestly and accurately, as well as their ability to compromise for the greater good, matters more than their level of erudition.

Hmm…which may be why old school moderates scores higher on the scale than extremists on either side. Refusing to bend is often tantamount to a refusal to think. Maybe there’s something to this.

Now you’ll excuse me, but for some reason I crave nachos and beer.