Rock pundits expressed relief when Marilyn Manson said earlier this year that he’d swap his Satanist’s neo-goth bondage-wear for something more glammy and androgynous, à la Ziggy Stardust. His teasing the boundaries of gender identity, they hoped, might mean the least subtle man in rock had developed a slight interest in artistic complexity. And that he’d be willing to explore it even if it cost him a few of his screaming preadolescent fans. Those pundits didn’t anticipate the scene last Tuesday night, however, when thousands of screaming preadolescent fans (in neo-goth bondage-wear) piled into the Virgin Megastore for Manson’s record-signing. Manson-style sexual ambiguity, it seems, has all the subtlety of a pair of assless pants, which he now wears in conjunction with molded-plastic breast buds and the indeterminate crotch lump of a Barbie doll. And that, it seems, is something every kid can relate to.