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If you are not familiar with this band, please go to Radio Head. This page is full of lyrical song references that'll make your friend Brian go bonkers - brain, he meant. No I did not! Just go to Radio Head. You probably won't get anything about this article.

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Radiohead is a horrible birth defect discovered in the rats and children of the ancient clans of West Korea. (Sorry, it's Mongolia. Such an idiot, I am.) They're also tied with Frank Zappa as the official musical artist/band of this very wiki.


It was discovered in 1908 by Prof. Alvin Yabbawabbagoozork, who embarked on an expedition to the fires of Hell (found directly under Mongolia, not West Korea). The Professor, in typical fashion, lost his way and found himself in quite a predicament with local tribes. That's our Professor Yabbawabbagoozork!

The horror!
Native inhabitants of Hell who've acquired the Radiohead birth defect.

Yabbawabbagoozork eventually talked his way out of his situation, actually becoming close to the tribes who had taken him captive in the first place. What a dreamy, charismatic man. It was at that point that the local Kaiser chiefs confided their mostest darkest secret with him: their rats and children were being born as paranoid androids! The Professor, of course, asked to see these rats and children. Finding this to be exciting, he had his cameramen set up, and summoned the children to him. "Well," he said. "I do believe your rats and children are Radioheads! My goodness, these are the finest specimens I have ever seen! May I take some of them in for... SPECIAL OBSERVATION??? (chortlechortle)"

And thus, Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood, Colin Greenwood, Ed O'Brien, and Phil Selway were born. Why Thom has a weird left eye, why the Greenwoods have FABULOUS bowl cuts, why Ed isn't Irish, and why Phil is bald are secrets Yabbawabbagoozork kept as deep dark secrets in his journal called "Against Demons," in which the very first page says, "Just because you feel it doesn't mean it's th-AHHH! Oh my God, I, like, SWEAR, that there was someone on my shoulder. There, there, it's all right now. I most certainly am not an accident waiting to happen. Despite my perpetual exposure to Radioheads here in Hell I am certain I will not become one. Unless they've got them raindrops... do they? Best look into that." His journal now resides in East Korea. Why? Because he had a near fatal encounter with a piece of radioactive Sjink. Don't question his authority or put him in a box 'cause he's not.

Different forms of Radiohead[edit]

These different forms of Radiohead were discovered by Alvin Yabbawabbagoozork II in 1933 in various parts of America while being an annoying tourist.

Pablo Honey: Basically Radiohead except you also start thinking that anyone can play guitar like a creep/weirdo.

The Bends: Just the most brutal form of Radiohead in which trees turn into plastic when you touch them while having a nice dream in planet telex that resonates in your bones and when you're in your vintage bullet-proof (I wish I was) iron lung. Be careful: it can leave you high and dry.

OK Computer: Don't listen to what Alvin said about The Bends because you are most likely enforcing karma with no surprises at all... If you aren't, then you're pretty lucky. That would've taken quite an amount of electioneering, so much that your head blows up like an airbag and makes a you a subterranean homesick alien. At least they haven't got you climbing up the walls now, have they? I heard it's supposed to make you fitter, happier... Don't worry man. You haven't let down the tourist yet.

Kid A: You wake up every day sucking a lemon and with two colors in your head. You also develop treefingers with a very optimistic view of our global economy as it is to the point where you become anxious to rewrite the national anthem while in limbo. Quite idiotesque if you ask me.

Amnesiac: Radiohead with the added symptom of feeling like spinning plates and a sardine pakt in a crusht tin box and the sudden urge to go hunting for bears (with you and whose army?) with the little dollars and cents you have. Is it because you hte life in a glasshouse?

Hail to the Thief: Closely resembles myxomatosis. You also go to sleep, start sucking young blood, start becoming horrible at math, and start punching up at weddings with a few backdrifts hanging around the jaws of Hell saying, "Sit down, you idiot! Stand up, you idiot!" All while sailing to the moon.

In Rainbows: You take 15 steps toward the mothership of bodysnatchers where they make you nude and experiment on you to turn you into a weird fish, which is all you need in this faust arp of a world. Or, you take 15 steps toward the mothership of reckoners saying, "Take me with yer!" They then build you a house of cards to live in for their environmental experiment that is designed fall on you like a jigsaw falling into place. When you awaken, you say, "They caught it all on videotape!"

The King of Limbs: Your body blooms and unfurls little by little like a disgusting lotus flower that smells worse than Mr. Magpie. You then get eaten by a feral cat that forces you to give up your ghost using an intergalactic codex separator.

A Moon Shaped Pool: You have the urge to sing the song of sixpence that goes "burn the witch" while daydreaming when the decks dark. This is when you realise that you are standing on some sort of desert island disk, which is always rotating. When you drown your beliefs, however, the disk comes to a full stop and flings you into the outer reaches of Limbo. The force you are thrown at gives you glass eyes to withstand the impending impact of coming back to Earth, since it is to her that we return. Upon being scrutinised in places you didn't know existed, the UN will attempt to use an identikit to figure out just who you are. But when they do, they tear apart the world and exclaim "The numbers don't add up in the present tense any more! You've got to be kidding me!" None of this affects you, since the phrase Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Thief is now your self-appointed title; true love waits after all, doesn't it?

After discovering all of these forms of Radiohead, Alvin Yabbawabbagoozork II kicked the bucket full of worms by slipping on a little white lie he told to the emperor after someone suggested he do so ("Go and tell the king that the sky is falling in, but it's not!") of Ipswich that resulted in making him laugh until his head came off. Go figure.


The rest of the children went on to become successful poets and ponces. Prof. Yabbawabbagoozork, disappointed with what his discoveries had become, hung himself at his home in Ipswich in 1912, twitching and salivating for a few minutes before he went to Heaven in a little row boat. He then got buried in a burning black hole in Devon. We'd hang ourselves too, to be honest.

See also[edit]

For those who can't handle the real truth, the spinners of fake truth at Wikipedia have a thoroughly boring article on Radiohead.