Anti-Elvis

And verily I say unto you, from Priscilla 4:16-20, it is written,

For there will be another Pelvis to come, another caped jumpsuit with a wireless microphone to drop, and he will be prophesized thus: to come into the world when The Great Elvis no longer matters, and brothers hurt their brothers, and sisters date their sisters. And this Anti-Elvis will rise and croon, until the city called Vegas beckons him to its Sphere. And the Lord will smite his followers, including hound dogs and those who see their blues as moody. And great seductive gyrations will descend upon the people, and they will gnash their teeth and rattle their jewelry. And curse Nicholas Cage and spit on the husbandry of Michael Jackson. And the great Metronome will rest on the 7th note and see that it is good.

And verily I say unto you, from the corny kernel of Parker,

Take this and sing, for this is your stimulant. And take this and slur, for this is your downer. And take them both at once on porcelain thrones and see the Lord.

And so it came to pass that there were a plague of Cadillacs and a scourge of mansions. And velvet protraits, returned to sender, in the ghetto. And suspicious minds plied themselves with Boone's Farm, drank from blue pseudoshoes of pseudosuede.

And there appeared a Blue Moon with its Boys, who sang and wailed in the background, for they were all shook up. They sang, as is written on the magnetic oxides of 8-track tape in the Jailhouse, which thusly rocked,

The Anti-Elvis will rise and he will continue the Graceland ministry with aplomb. And it will come to pass that HE will lie in wait for the British Invasion, securing his mail and thickening his armor, and downconverting the classic scale into the Phrygian Mode; the fans will hear the strains and pluck their cords, vocally, for it has been written. And strummed. And thanked you very much.

And all was good.