Freakout for the new millenium

In the long line of rock and roll weirdos, there are some real winners. We have Skip Spence of Moby Grape, Syd Barrett of the Pink Floyd, and Roky Erikson of the 13th Floor Elevators. All of their problems stemmed from bad chemicals, injested in the eagerness of seeing, in Roky's words, "where the eye meets the pyramid." Brave but deluded, casualties of ill-conceived vision quests, they each ended up within a personal hell that makes for both great reading and an outpouring of pity, for they were the tragic psychonauts riding the lysergic rocket to the center of the mind. Or something like that.

Now we have Britney Spears. Shaved-head, tramp-stamped, whale-tailed, candle-at-both-ends Britney Spears. Is she to be the new eccentric of pop music, spotting aphorisms of schizo-wisdom to the masses? Only time will tell. But, again like Roky said, "you're gonna miss me..."