Bogus Band Bio #VI: Radiohead, Part 1

Thom Yorke was born a parasitic twin.
“Craniopagus parasiticus” results when one part of a set of conjoined twins fails to develop. As a result, Bryan Yorke (Thom’s brother) was born with a second head attached at the base of his skull.While Thom’s head could blink and smile, it was not capable of independent life without some severe intervention by the noted Oxford surgeon Mando Mangdhed . The weight of the appendage (Thom) would prevent Bryan from crawling or sitting upright, prompting the parents to give the green light to the surgeon to remove it when he was ten-months-old.

In order to remove the head (Thom), which shared a blood vessel with Bryan’s brain, the surgeons cut off the blood supply to Thom’s head. Fortunately, the risky procedure did not cause a fatal surge of blood to Bryan’s heart. The prognosis was good following surgery and Bryan showed no signs of paralysis and could move all of his limbs. Thom’s head, meanwhile, was discarded in a basket for future disposal.

While awaiting cremation in the basement of the hospital’s crematorium, Thom began to stir. The caretaker of the crematorium was a man by the name of Chuck Mangione, who was enjoying a vegemite sandwich when he heard a rustling in the newly delivered medical waste basket. He glanced over and saw a twisted mess of flesh attempting to crawl it’s way out of the basket (see photo). basketcase21

Chuck gingerly and cautiously made his way over to Thom and looked into the creatures eyes. There seemed to be a glimmer of sadness in it’s right eye and Chuck, being a melancholy and maternal sort of person, started to think. He’d always wanted a child, but growing up a eunuch in his native Lagush made that thought but a distant and impossible dream.

But this! This was his opportunity. Obviously the callous parents of this parasitic twin had thought this thing in the basket a monstrosity and an abomination and wanted it disposed of. He could raise the head as he would a child, nurture it and perhaps save enough money with his flugelhorn gigs for some plastic surgery for the lad.

He gently pushed the head back in the wicker basket and walked out of the crematorium, smiling and whistling a jaunty little tune as he went…

To be continued…