Part motivational speaker, part armchair political scientist, part hack comedian, and 100% self-promotion, Henry Rollins brought his one-man spoken word show, Recountdown 2008, to a packed La Zona Rosa Sunday night. Folding chairs were laid out from the stage to the back of the room, but even so, a spillover audience filled out the wings and spots by the bar. Looking decades younger than his 47 years, Rollins spoke for well over two hours, hunching over his mic as if it were a live snake, and never missed a beat.

The show had no narrative as such; instead, Rollins jumped from one subject to another with the eagerness of a puppy in a junkyard. By this point in time Rollins is something of a household name, a full-scale media being who projects his persona so bluntly that it’s impossible to tell which parts are really him and which parts are strictly showbiz. He’s almost entirely shed the menacing punk-rocker image that got him through his road-dog career with Black Flag in the '80s and Rollins Band in the '90s, although, on a sub-textual level, Rollins’ punk-legend status gives him a lot of leverage, credibility-wise, when he starts riffing on elliptical machines or how he hates eating at Subway.

Indeed, most of the non-political jokes revolved around low-brow observations on how ridiculous it is being Henry Rollins—working out to Slayer in hotel fitness centers, having surreal run-ins with David Lee Roth (the man does a priceless Diamond Dave impression). An over-the-top sense of self-deprecation pervaded the show, as when Rollins related a story about how arousing it was for him to get patted down by NSA officers at an airport.

But the self-professed political junkie had the audience in the palm of his hand when he started talking politicas, particularly a trip he made to Islamabad, Pakistan, the week Benazir Bhutto was assassinated. “For the last eight years,” he opined, “George Bush has been my travel agent: every place he says hates America, I’m there.” All the little details, from his impersonation of an armed hotel bellhop to his descriptions of what burning tires smell like, got to the bottom of the situation in a manner that was funny, enlightening, and even poignant.

Rollins is really only funny about half the time, depending on how generous you feel at the moment. But he is so energetic in his delivery, so transparently earnest in his convictions, that you can’t really knock on the guy without OD’ing on cynicism. The guy obviously cares deeply about individuals: it’s only when he encounters herds that the vitriol starts flowing.