A JPmortician@gmail.com has just emailed me: "You are a hideous, stupid fucking bitch ! Elvis Is The Best. Fuck You !" As punishment I am reposting my anti-Elvis tirade of 2007.
If I see another Elvis Presley item on the TV or in any media – including this blog – marking the 30th anniversary of his welcome death on a toilet - I will definitely run one of my cars into a huge puddle and saturate some old ladies huddled together in a bus shelter feeling sorry for themselves, the stupid tarts. You have been warned.
Only the other day I was looking at Priscilla Presley and mourning the loss of her beauty to vanity. The upper lip looks kinked to me, which could be the result of going down on the ugly swine TV producer Nigel Lythgoe, or the work of an over-ambitious cosmetic surgeon who should be using his medical skills to save the sick and injured instead of trussing up old birds to look like refrigerated Bell’s Palsy victims. Her face can’t have seen the sun since Elvis’ ’68 comeback or whatever and is so luminous that one could read a book by its light as the stars twinkle and prostitutes prepare to help keep a large number of potential rapists off the streets.
That’s the effect Elvis has on me – the man who slept with his mother – though I’m not sure that means he was a motherfucker – but he did have a lovely boyfriend for a while, the actor Nick Adams who died young of the chemicals. I sometimes wonder what Elvis did with Nick in bed – perhaps he crooned “Are you lonesome tonight” before joy-riding his tongue on Nick's perineum – yes, I could imagine that happening. The perineum is very sensitive.
Naturally one must feel compassion for the Elvis tribute artistes – as I write some disgusting looking little man on Sky News is showing us his Elvis clock and some ancient crow in a white suit is Are You Lonesoming (she looks nothing like Elvis – he never grew to be that old) – in fact I pity all tribute artistes who tragically consecrate their lives to people who earned more money than they do or ever will – nonetheless if an Elvis impersonator ever comes near me they will get the road water treatment, oh yes.
I prefer Elvis where he is now, in the ghost world, and still talking judging by the number of spirit communications claimed for him. Even he doesn’t much care for aping fans as evinced by this psychic monologue snatch dated year 2000 on a site called Spirit Communicator:
“This is I, -- the king of love and exaggeration. I started to sing again after such long leg-breaking hospital work in rehabs for the folks in the same condition I was in. Now I have freedom to sing, but instead I have to wipe away all those terrible images of my imitators that pop up around me as some Halloween monsters. I have to deal with it. I am looking for someone who can help me to stop that swamping flow of cheap and horrible images, caricatures of me. They want to get in touch with fame through imitating me. What a lack of taste! What frustration…"
“Cheap and horrible images” … it makes me want to love Elvis but then I’ll hear him Are You Lonesoming and I think of drenching old ladies in bus shelters. It’s Pavlovian. Dead Elvis also gossips – he tells us that the murdered Italian movie director Pasolini (a distant relative of mine) will reincarnate in America and do some movie work there. How wonderful that Elvis is talking to a man like Pasolini – I wonder whether Elvis has seen Pasolini’s Salo which features shit eating. It’s symbolic. Elvis himself will reincarnate in Italy so perhaps all his fans will move there in readiness.
Any way click here for more from Elvis
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