Henry Rollins

Hailed as punk's poet laureate or rock's last angry man, Rollins is more a man in permanent catharsis, simultaneously running from himself and toward himself without sparing any documented detail. Through his lyrics, spoken-word engagements and volumes of poetry - which he publishes, along with the work of other L.A. musicians and poets, through the 2.13.61 publishing house, named for his birth date - Rollins lives every aspect of his life in front of anyone who is willing to watch. For Rollins, life is a matter of dealing with his own identity and his place in the world. ``I was raised to hurt myself and hate myself,'' he says. ``To absorb the blows I give myself, I've had to build my body and mind. I've expanded my pain threshold, both physical and mental. I've just had to build a machine that can take it.'' (Mundy, Klein, 2-3)

Premachine Rollins was raised in Washington, D.C., where early physical abuses and a military high school helped shape the rage and regimen that are his life. And while the combination startles the uninitiated, he insists that that is not his point. ``I'm not into shock,'' says Rollins. ``I hate that shit. That's a threat to me. Maybe some of the things I've done have shocked people, but that was not the intent. There's parts of everyone that are unattractive. I don't edit them out. I tell stories about getting molested. I'm heterosexual, but the first people to grab my dick were men, in my home and abroad. I talk about that stuff. One of the first times I was assaulted by a guy was in Greece when I was about ten. He pulled me in his truck.'' (Mundy, Klein, 2-3)

Fueled by his past and an early realization that he didn't fit into the ...