The Death of English

In 1846, the British annexed Kashmir and sold it for 75 lakh Nanak Shahi Rupees to Gulab Singh via the Treaty of Amritsar.
Revenge, as they say, is a dish best tasted cold.
A century and a half later, we have been able to extract a measure of revenge. My younger son, Khurram, has been mounting a series of fearless guerilla attacks on the most precious possession of the British – the english language. Khummisms range from 'panograma' (photography) and 'The Devil wears Braga' (movies) to 'printer cartilages' via 'Stratergy' (don't ask!). Khurram unhesitantly invents or twists words when he is in full flow. Homonyms, heteronyms and and other assorted nyms – even words wholly unrelated by sound or meaning – form part of his arsenal. Messrs Wren & Martin must be shaking in their graves.
For all Khurram's enthusiasm, being a mere schoolboy he is no match for the sheer professionalism of our next contender. This gentleman (or a series of assorted brains working together), who wrote to my office last week, has tortured the English language with enthusiasm worthy of the Inquisition. He must unfortunately remain anonymous.

Consider these gems:
'within the basis towards circumstances of periodic presence' (indeed!)
'generous enough with little additional gratifications'
'equally well-regarded with extra regards'
Totally mind-boggling. It reminds me of the letter written by Okhil Chandra Sen to the to the Sahibganj Divisional Railway Office in Bengal in 1909 that is supposed to have led to the introduction of toilets in indian trains:

English R.I.P