It would be my honor to critique your 900-page manuscript; I'm not doing anything else this year.

Does this sound like you? Every time you open your mouth, something stupid comes out, such as: "It's going to be a 5-hour car ride, but I guess it's o.k. if your cat comes along." Or "Sure, I'll help you move the heavier boxes" Or "An extra ticket to tonight's one-man interpretive dance performance about Photosynthesis? Count me in!"

If you answered "kinda," you may be one of the millions of people who suffer from a chronic syndrome called: "I Hear the Words as They are Issuing Forth From My Lips, But I Cannot Believe I Am Actually Saying Them," which, of course, is Latin for "Blurting Out Disease." There is no known cure, but treatment is available.

The old method of wiring one's mouth shut to stanch the flow of excited utterances has been discredited. The technique is now considered to be unnecessarily cruel and ineffective, although, when it was in use, it did evolve a new type of language, albeit one that was utterly incomprehensible and grating on the ears. Still...

In our own age, the same companies that made a killing with voice-altering technology, enabling dissidents living under repressive, totalitarian rule to give radio interviews to foreign journalists without fear of identification and retribution, now have trained their sights on the domestic market. These days, there abounds a whole slew of "vetters," as they are affectionately known. Cleverly disguised as braces worn over the teeth (assuming that you are accustomed to the variety of braces that have flashing lights and make hissing sounds in the manner of a locomotive), the devices retail at consumer-friendly prices. The average one costs about the same as a cup of coffee -- consumed daily over a span of 37 years. They are adaptable in almost any setting and permit both breathing and eating -- making them a vast improvement over earlier models.

When the manufacturer's instructions are followed to the letter, the little machines work like a charm. (Note: failure to adhere to the instructions voids the warranty in most cases). At present, the vetters are limited by a crude lexicon, but, nonetheless, one that is effective. Ergo, when the telephone rings and the earnest young person who couldn't find any other job on the other end of the line implores you to give generously to the Composting Awareness Initiative, even as your brain is transmitting the signal to your speech apparatus to respond: "Sure, I'll make a donation," the vetter is adjusting the words such that the listener hears: "Drop dead!"

The vetters can also be programmed to express such clever phrases as "No!" "What do I look like, a sap?" and "What do I look like, a person who cares about your problems?"

Facing facts, we must acknowledge that the bionic age is upon us. If you're going to go around all the time sporting collagen in your face, you might as well broadcast a sentiment to match. As an advocate of the unambiguous, we take our cue from the incomparable Nina Simone, whose catchphrase we have appropriated for our own use: "Don't let me be misunderstood."

You got that?