I Love Henry Rollins

While thinking about what to write this week, I was clicking through one of my favorite webcomics and when through a series links that started here, took me to an article on Crosstalk about the Definitive 200, whose crap-stained depths I will not deign to plumb, if for no other reason than its definition of "definitive" does not seem to mean "albums that defined a genre" (which would be an interesting project, come to think of it. I may address this idea at a later point). When your representation of metal is four of Metallica's albums and you put the Black Album first, your thought process is flawed.

In any case, when I opened the Crosstalk link, whose striking mug did I see floating to the right of the text, sporting a slightly quizzical look that reminds me of a dog who's trying to figure out if you're BS-ing him? Why, the inimical Henry Rollins, plugging the arrival of the second season of his late night talk show. Immediately, two thoughts rushed into my mind, like atoms on a collision course in a particle accelerator: 1.) Henry Rollins has a talk show? Why didn't I know about that? and 2.) Dammit! I missed the first season! I think my brain might have hiccuped a bit after that, because the next thing I remember, it was two minutes later and I found myself pouring through the visual-overload that is the show's website, while simultaneously trying to find out if my cable package carries IFC, the show's network host.

Why all of the mental distress? The truth is, I crave Henry Rollins in his spoken word form as much as possible. He's got a clear, interesting message which, while it might not always be rational, is the exact opposite of most discourse I encounter on a daily basis because he manages to be straightforward and opinionated without being stupidly insulting (unless you're a lazy fat ass who refuses to do anything about your life. Or a moron. Or a record producer. Then you might get offended) and he makes me laugh pretty hard about life. In addition, he's really good at mixing in self-deprecation that makes him human without being whiny, so even when I'm thinking, "that would never work in real life," I can empathize. It's all pretty ingenious.

Probably the best testament of my love for the man and his works is when I purchased the t-shirt bearing the image pictured up above, simply because it was the best statement about essence of Rollins I've ever seen. What would Henry Rollins do, indeed; he'd tell you to stop pussyfooting around, stop being a dick and do the things that make your life better, because life is short. And if you don't do them, he'll kick your ass. I then wore that shirt (which I'm very proud of) out to see GWAR this past December and used it to make friends with a security guard. It made a nice two-minute conversation piece two nights later when I saw the same guard at Children of Bodom two nights later.

I've made some half-hearted efforts to see Rollins speak live in the past few years, but having him come into my living room every Friday for a precious half an hour seems like a pretty decent alternative.