Our friend Vanderleun at American Digest has written such a great spoofthat I was hard-pressed to reproduce it here almost in full.
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SEATTLE, WASHINGTON -- Doctors are blaming a rare electrical imbalance in the brain for the bizarre death of a blogger whose head literally exploded in the final week of the "health care" summer!

No one else was hurt in the fatal explosion but a small room at the blogger's residence was sprayed with blood and brain matter when Gerard Van der Leun's head suddenly blew apart. Experts say he suffered from a condition called Hyper-Cerebral Blogosis or HCB .

"He was deep in concentration with his eyes focused on the screen and his fingers frozen over the keyboard," said early responder, Miguel Wilsonista. "He seems to have hit 'Post' for what had to be the 3,456,856th item of inept political photoshopping this year when the blast occurred.

"His browser history documents that he went from Drudge to Real Clear Politics to Talking Points Memo to Instapundit to Fox News to The New York Times to MSNBC to Kos to Roger Simon to Little Green Footballs to The Corner to Atrios to Google News to Allah to The Belmont Club to Wonkette and finally, and probably fatally, to Andrew Sullivan. All of a sudden his hands flew to his temples and he screamed in pain. Then, as if someone had put a bomb in his cranium, Van der Leun's head popped like a firecracker."

Incredibly, Van der Leun's is not the first case in which a blogger's head has spontaneously exploded during these last few days of health care debate. Five bloggers are known to have exhibited of HCB in the last week.

The most recent explosion occurred just two days ago at Instapundit, when Glenn Reynolds' skull burst but his blog kept on updating itself oblivious to Mr. Reynold's absence. Documents unsealed in Washington today, disclosed that fading blogger Andrew Sullivan's head actually exploded in early 2004, but duct tape, chewing gum, and gay marriage has kept that blog's keyboard humming in the grisly aftermath.

"HCB was once an extremely rare physical imbalance," said Dr. Anatoly Martinenko, famed neurologist and expert on the blogging brain who did the secret autopsy on Andrew Sullivan early in 2004.

"It is a condition in which the circuits of the brain become overloaded by repetitive punditry. The explosions happen during periods of intensely boring political activity when lots of current is surging through the blogger's brain but no new connections are or can be made. Victims are highly intelligent people with great powers of concentration. Both Mr. Van der Leun and Mr. Sullivan were intense people who tended to keep those cerebral circuits overloaded. In a way it could be said they were literally too smart for their own good.

Although Dr. Martinenko says there are probably many undiagnosed cases, he hastens to add that very few bloggers will die from HCB. "Most people who have it will never know. Their heads will explode and they will keep right on posting. At this point, medical science still doesn't know much about HCB. And since fatalities are so rare it will probably be years before research money becomes available. This tragedy today is just another instance where human embryo stem cell research could not have made a bit of difference, but we'd have been glad to have the money from the Federal Government anyway."

In the meantime, the doctor urges bloggers to take it easy and not think too hard for long periods of time concerning the outcome of the "health care" "debate."

And just how do you think I got in this jar?

I have learned how to keep my head from exploding. It's trepanation. I learned this one from Bruno, who was born with holes in his head. "What, me worry" is his most common saying, after "I wanna see Barbra."

I am now going to let the cat out of the bag. A truly successful trip to Jiffi-Lobo will include trepanation. After all, no matter how much gray matter they suck out to make you the Perfect Prog, there's still the possibility that something might conflict with your sense of Perfect Progitude and make your head explode.

Hence the need for vents in the skull.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:I have learned how to keep my head from exploding. It's trepanation. I learned this one from Bruno, who was born with holes in his head. "What, me worry" is his most common saying, after "I wanna see Barbra."

I am now going to let the cat out of the bag. A truly successful trip to Jiffi-Lobo will include trepanation. After all, no matter how much gray matter they suck out to make you the Perfect Prog, there's still the possibility that something might conflict with your sense of Perfect Progitude and make your head explode.

Hence the need for vents in the skull.

Who says that Obamacare won't be progressive?!?! This proves it is the best thing for the USSA since FDR!

No longer will flyover country folk be saying, in a negative manner, "I need that like I need a hole in the head." The progs will see the light and be all the more ventilated!



Now excuse me while I recite my daily praise and thanks giving to His O'liness.



(What, y'all really thought I was a cat?)

Uh, Reixucat, I hate to tell you but your head looks like Henry Waxman's nose.

I am worried about one thing, though--I'm here in Montana and it's higher than at the Rancho. If my trepanation holes are too big, does that mean that my head will whistle from the escaping pressure?

Inquiring used-to-be-minds want to know.

Only when the plane ascends skyward. And when decending also, but in another pitch.

(Waxman's nose, f'n funny as hell primo)

Oh. Dear. My head really does hurt. It seems that Dear O'Leader's speech to the school children, which was sure was to inculcate Obamajugend, merely came out as banal and tedious and boring and so pedestrian that a librarian who majored in civics would fall asleep.

My head would explode, except for the fact that His O'liness is just so...soporific. Even his self-absorption is getting--dare I say it? as boring as <i>Tiger Beat</i>.

Which is just what it is. How did we let the leader who will direct us to the Progressive World of Next Tuesday become, in less than eight months, nothing but a gasbag and a camera whore?

Commissar Theocritus wrote:
Which is just what it is. How did we let the leader who will direct us to the Progressive World of Next Tuesday become, in less than eight months, nothing but a gasbag and a camera whore?

I believe he has lived a lump of coal life since becoming our dear leader.

1st, the volitles are burned off, which pretty much happened on installation day, then as the solid carbon burned with all the exposure under those hot lights he quickly combusted into an ashen figure.

(For some reason I feel like watching my Time Bandits DVD right now.)

Are all the dwarfs the czars? All that mad scrabbling.

After watching the film several times while consuming copious quanties of catnip tea (what, you thought I was serious about being a biped?) I have come to the following conclusion Commissar Theo.

Pansy and Vincent, all of them, are decadent burgeois who desrved their fates in the film.