The US Food and Drug Administration just announced that it plans to require simpler labels on over-the-counter medications. Words like “perforation” would no longer be allowed. Instead, “hole” would be required. Perforation, you see, has four syllables; hole has one.

Meanwhile, Boston’s school department is in its second year of a new level-funding policy. It seems that in years past, some Boston schools — against all odds — actually became good schools. They had dedicated principals, teachers and staff, all of whom fought hard for more resources for their kids. The levels of education they delivered climbed. They became known around the city as the bright lights in an otherwise dim sky.

Now the city is changing that. The school department has decreed that these better schools are to be stripped of their excess resources, with the money being diverted to other, less well financed schools. Boston Latin School is losing 5.2 employee positions (while its enrollment is actually climbing). The O’Bryant in Roxbury, another well-regarded exam school, is losing 7.4 positions. The resources for all schools, the school department argues, should be equal.

It all sounds eminently fair. It is also eminently dumb. Indeed, whether it’s the FDA or the Boston Public Schools, the message is the same: go for the bronze. Don’t strive, don’t excel. Instead, let’s dumb everything down to average.

Or maybe it’s not so dumb. These three- and four-syllable words have been bothering me for some time. Why do we have them? Use “lung” instead of “pulmonary” the FDA says. Or even “throw away” instead of “discard.” The feds are right. These big words are all so hard they hurt my head.

And let’s not stop with the language (I’m sorry, I mean “the words we use”). How about math? Can’t we get rid of these pesky fractions and decimal points? The same with finance. All money should be in whole dollars, interest rates should be easy to use whole numbers and, while we’re at it, let’s make a year 300 days with 10 months a year and abolish leap years altogether.

Science! Do you realize that there are trillions of possible combinations of DNA? That’s far too many. We need a smaller number … like, seven. Imagine how much easier biology will be from now on. This Einsteinian physics needs some work as well. I can deal with the special theory of relativity, but the general has always escaped me. And Heisenberg’s principles are far too uncertain. Get rid of them!

How about history? So many civilizations, so many people, so much time. Let’s cut it down. Start with the 1950s. If it was before Elvis, we probably don’t need to know it anyway.

Here are some more rules for the brave, dumb world. All books shall be 100 pages or fewer. They shall have beginnings, middles and ends. The good guys should be clearly identified, and they should always win. Books should never leave one muddled or confused. Poems must all rhyme. Keep metaphors to a minimum. Paintings shall all be strictly representational (oops, “shall look like things we know”). If I wanted abstract, I’d smear petroleum jelly on my glasses. Unreal numbers shall be banned and Euclidean shall be the only allowed geometry. Pi will be 3. Just 3. None of this indefinite fraction stuff.

It will all be so much easier.

Sure, there are some pointy-headed intellectuals who won’t like it. They’ll say we’re digging ourselves a hole we’ll never climb out of. But they’re wrong. It’s only a perforation.