You've absorbed the deified albums, quarreled over the rock critic pontifications, frowned at the guarded, combative interviews. Thom Yorke's ugly-stick-beaten mug has peered at you from the pages of every magazine known to man; his every word and every note has ignited its own individual Internet flame war. Mass media has bombarded us with Radiohead critique, rendering us unable to generate an unfiltered... More >>>
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Jeffrey, 9: Easily the most disturbing of several you're-going-to-hell panoramas. The booth in the center reads "Free Suicides." Someone buy this kid a Coldplay CD.