Waving the flag

Rollins on getting used to the smell of napalm

by Henry Rollins

Rollins's latest book is Eye Scream, a piece he began 10 years ago. At the same time, Thirsty Ear has released an audio-book excerpt, Everything. The excerpts below are drawn from a chapter called "Fear," which is made up of short entries juxtaposed with boldface headings. "I wanted to document how much ferocity, cruelty, and oppression is inherent in the culture and how much of it was in me," Rollins has said. "I wanted to bring the whole thing to a boil."

Jon Garelick
Music Editor

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You want to be an actress so you figure you'll work on your technique by dancing naked in front of a bunch of idiots for seven years?

I watched her shoot up in the bathroom. We had just finished fucking. I thought she was in the kitchen so I went to the toilet and she was in there with the door open. I just looked at her. She looked up at me and said hi and went back to shooting the dope into her foot. I didn't know she did that shit. I couldn't tell when we were fucking. I wondered how long she had been doing that shit but I was afraid to ask. I don't know why I was afraid, I just was. She finished and leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. I asked her if she was alright. She didn't say anything. She waved me away and I left the fucking place. She had said earlier that she had a boyfriend who was in jail and some of his friends would check up on her from time to time. I don't know what the hell I went to her place for. I guess I was lonely. She had a hard beauty that I hadn't ever seen in a woman. I thought about her for days afterwards. I never saw her again. I heard that she dumped the guy and married some Marine and the two of them moved to North Carolina. People get caught here on Earth. We do the time and shit happens. I end up, you end up. Don't try to make any big sense of it. That's the first mistake. The more you try to figure it out, the more it fucks you up. I don't know what the second mistake is.

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What about a gaaaaaaaaaaay GI Joe doll?

I got your letter today. I should start by saying I don't hate you. I don't have any problems with you, or that is to say that I will not accept you as the blame for my state of being. In the last few years it has been very difficult for me to get by without bad depression. I have been doing a lot of thinking as to the root of all the bullshit that I put myself through. I ask myself why I do all this music and writing bullshit. I know why I do it all. I am trying to get out all the rage that I have. Do you know where that rage comes from? It comes from the way I was raised. I have a rage in me that dries my bone marrow, it goes so deep. All I can do now is make my rent money and eat year after year. It is up to me to get myself better. I know I was a horrible person growing up. I was never good at school, sports. I was a disappointment on all levels. I am only good at one thing; that is the taking of and dispensing pain. I know humiliation, that's why I work so hard. No one will ever walk on me again. I command respect through intimidation and the fact that I will persist after all the rest have given up. My capacity for taking pain is what I am most proud of. It's all I know at this point. I should have died when I was born. I have no happy memories of childhood. I know you did the best you could and I have no regrets and I appreciate all you did for me and I know you did your best and I know you gave up a part of your life to raise me. I know there were things you would have done differently if you didn't have me. I also know I didn't ask to be born. It is hard for me to deal with women past a business level. The thought of intimacy is repulsive and out of the question. I learned about sex by walking down the hall and seeing you and some guy. One of them once told me once how good you are in bed. Do you have any idea what kind of shit that does to a freaked-out little boy? To me, every woman is a bitch. I make sure I hurt every one of them mentally when I have sex with them. I like the mental pain I cause them more than I like the sex I have with them. I do my best to feel legitimate and that I deserve a life. It is an ongoing struggle. So in the last two years I have had difficulty in dealing with you. This is no fault of yours. I hope that someday that I can be your friend. I don't mean to make this a problem. It is a full-time thing for me to maintain. I have bad problems with depression. It's like a plague. It makes me want to either kill someone or kill myself. It sometimes ends with me beating some guy up. I would never take my fists to a female. I think you are a good person and I know you want to do good things. The problem with you and me not connecting is a problem that comes from my end. I can't help how I feel though. I wish I didn't feel like this. I would of rather have had a normal life. Not the strange one that I have now. I feel more in common with a guy who murders a lot of people than I do with anyone in my world. So that's it. My life is fucked. You wanted to know what was going on with me and I told you the best I could.

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Information

Yesterday the first gunshot came in at 7:36 a.m. No return fire. Pack the gat and spray the suckers that sling the crack. Duck and cover. It's not you yet so don't ever think about death. It just gets in the way of the real life movie you got going on my fucking street. This wild west has no nobility. Live in fear of the ones who have the ability to see that life has no price and for this, you pay endlessly. You pay with fear. Disease wears a cape and dons a shining shield. The stats break it down to sheer numbers. Reality has become a fear trip. Something to choke on. One in every three women in America will be raped. This is science friction. I see it from all sides. I see the direction of the infection. The facts are stacked and packed into your head. You need the two hour vacation twelve times a day. Spark the joint and park the car. Look up at the stars. Think about it, you're in the hot seat. You're in the shark tank. If you want to beat them, you have to join them somehow. The bad guys kill the bad guys. The bad guys kill the good guys. If you want to survive the bad guys, you have to have some bad in you -- a lot actually. You have to know what they know. This is high adventure in the great outdoors. I don't know what these people thought was going to happen to them. Too much television, too much bad food, too many magazines. Too much time spent worrying about depressed millionaires getting left by their women. Wondering if the fall season shows will be what they should be. Anyone who wants to help me doesn't. Anyone who wants to kill me might. Anyone who wants to love me better not. People are poisonous. When was the last time you wanted to kill someone. I mean really kill someone? Where you planned all the shit out, like what to do with the body and all that. When was the last time you really wanted to live? Do you ever have to remind yourself that you're alive? I'm not a light bringer, I'm not a gunslinger. I'm a reporter from the port of soul. Front line at the abyss. If the abyss fits, wear it. Looking into the monster's mouth. The vet turned cop. Man walks a dozen people down the aisle of a convenience store and shoots them. A girl gets raped in the shower a few times and now tries to kill herself often. She's a good American -- she'll get it right. Nothing but the facts. I like the ones that make you choke. The truth is my friend. It keeps me warm at night. The truth is your friend even when it's sending you to prison. Even when it kills you and your fuck partner. There will be some bright nights ahead. You'll get used to the smell of napalm. Pigs eating dead bodies and the gun-toting youths who wear your looted watches and rings will not scare you one bit. Feel the fear. And don't forget to get down.

Copyright 1996 by Henry Rollins.