Punk rock can take a toll on the human body—even more so when you grow up, as John Lydon did, suffering through a vicious bout of meningitis. But Lydon—a.k.a. Johnny Rotten, the impish malcontent who fronted the Sex Pistols through their brief, scandalous reign over England—has survived it all the way to today, his sixtieth birthday. Last year Lydon published a memoir, Anger Is an Energy, and released a new album (What the World Needs Now…) with his band, Public Image Ltd. GQ caught up with him on a tour stop to discuss the book and the ways he’s coping with his ravaged body.

In your recent memoir, you write about coming down with meningitis as a child. Can you describe your symptoms?“Crippling headaches and blurry vision, and then actual visions. I would imagine dragons at the end of the bed."

You also write harrowingly about getting your spinal fluid drained. What did that feel like?“Severe pain. Severe, unreal pain starting at the tip of the anus where your tailbone is, going all the way up into your brain. I can feel the spine curling with it, the lung punctures…I was, you know, just born to be tortured, really.”

Does it still affect your posture?“Yeah, so much so. Yeah, it curves my spine permanently, which is why I have a slight stoop figure. I was supposed to put a broom handle between my arms to straighten my back, but I just found that did nothing but cause more pain.”

And then, on top of all that, there was that time you got a broken bottle jammed in your wrist in that West London…was it a bar fight?“Oh, I’ve had cuts all over me. I’ve got a machete in the knee. [laughs] I don’t weight those much, though. You know?”

Why not?“Because they’re just sillinesses that happen. They’re more like accidental fiascos.”

“What’s wrong with being off your nut every now and again?”

How do you cope with pain?“I’m the world’s worst moaner. Oddly enough, I find that that really helps because I’ll exaggerate everything to the point of hypochondria-plus. I get a great sense of amusement of annoying people with that. Eventually everyone just runs away and you can get back to watching television.”

You still smoke?“Yeah. It’s a challenge, isn’t it? But if I can’t enjoy being alive, then I don’t want to be alive. And drinking and cigarettes and having fun and staying up for endless days—these are all great attractions to me.”

In the book you write, “Go forth. Create chaos and begin in your own head. What’s wrong with being off your nut every now and again?”“Nothing at all. I think it’s absolutely an excellent idea.”

Do you think that the partying has had any long-term effects?“Yes, it’s made me a better person.”

When’s the last time you exercised?“Years and years ago—this is when my band, PIL, was first touring America—an American manager recommended it. I just wouldn’t go to no gymnasium, not for anything. So they rented this bloke who came around in a truck with all the equipment in the back. It was just too preposterous. It’s like, these are muscles I don’t need to use and I don’t want, and I don’t want to carry them around either. I’d much rather carry around vats of alcoholic debris. Body shape and size matters nothing at all. Everything I know about human beings—it’s all in their eyes.”

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