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Elvis Reads
Aug. 18th, 2012 09:00 am
Elvis Presley’s library card from 1948 when the thirteen-year-old checked out Bessie Rowland and Marquis James’s The Courageous Heart: A Life of Andrew Jackson for Young Readers from Humes High School in Memphis, Tennessee.
-- Paris Review
Elvis Reads
Aug. 18th, 2012 09:00 amElvis Presley’s library card from 1948 when the thirteen-year-old checked out Bessie Rowland and Marquis James’s The Courageous Heart: A Life of Andrew Jackson for Young Readers from Humes High School in Memphis, Tennessee.
-- Paris Review
Yesterday was the 35th anniversary of Elvis's death, and I have come across a passionate little love note to the king marking the occasion. Personally, I have not been listening to any music lately. I have been more caught up in my books and blogging, which I am glad about. Besides, the little absence will only enrich my appreciation for Elvis when I do settle down to listen.
_ _ _
"The army can do anything it wants with me," remarked Elvis Presley upon leaving for basic training in 1958. "Millions of other guys have been drafted, and I don't want to be different from anyone else." But Elvis was not like anyone else.
He wore sideburns and greasy long hair in the crew-cutted fifties. He played black music in the segregated South. He appeared in foppish fashions -- ascots, satin pants, pink shirts -- in t-shirt-and-jeans Memphis. As a teenage steady remembered, "I knew the first time I met him that he was not like other people."
This did not sit well with other people. Classmates cut the strings to his guitar. Other kids pitched rotten fruit at him. The coach kicked him off the high school football team, and a boss threatened to fire him, for refusing to get a haircut. "I felt really sorry for him," noted a classmate, who had defended Elvis from bullies. "He seemed very lonely and had no real friends. He just didn't seem to be able to fit in."
Elvis never fit in. He stood out. Greatness isn't about meshing with the crowd. Greatness requires the courage to stand apart. In an era derided as conformist, Elvis was an individual. He dared to be different.
One gleans just how much of a pariah the guitar-strumming teenager was from reading Peter Guralnick's Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. If the 20th century's most popular singer appeared as a show-business cliché at his death 35 years ago today, he projected so eccentric an image in his pre-fame Memphis days that the idea of him conquering the entertainment world would seem as bizarre to Memphians as Elvis appeared to them. If Elvis doesn't strike us today as outlandish, it is because we live in the world that Elvis made.
The individual who initially threatens the crowd eventually pleases the crowd. Mockers became imitators. "What he did," Grand Ole Opry member Jimmy "C" Newman told Guralnick, "was he changed it all around. After that we had to go to Texas to work, there wasn't any work anywhere else, because all they wanted was someone to imitate Elvis, to jump up and down on the stage and make a fool of themselves." Thirty-five years after his death, the high school outcast remains the world's most impersonated person.
"I don't sound like nobody," the inner-directed Elvis, to borrow David Riesman's famous fifties phrase, told Sun Records. His unique style extended from his dress to his art. The postwar star defied categorization. Critics labeled his music bebop, hillbilly, folk, country, and r&b, until finally settling on rock 'n' roll. Like his classmates, they sneered like snobs. The New York Times judged, "Mr. Presley has no discernable singing ability."
America disagreed. By late 1956, the phenom sold two-thirds of RCA's 45s. Between "Heartbreak Hotel" hitting #1 in April of 1956 and the induction of recruit #53310761 in March of 1958, the King reigned atop the singles sales charts for more than a year. Only a force as powerful as the U.S. Army could stop him.
Rather than overthrowing the American social order, Elvis was a product of it. Before his singing career, he mowed lawns, served as a theater usher, worked as a machinist, and drove a truck. He repeatedly affirmed his love of God and belief in the Bible. In these early years, he steered clear of drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes -- but not food or practical jokes. And even though girls literally ripped the clothes off his body, he generally stopped short of doing the same with his many dating partners. Above all, he loved his parents, lavishing a pink Cadillac and a mansion upon his mother before her death. The journey from the Lauderdale Courts housing project to Graceland was the American Dream on steroids.
Elvis enthralls 35 years after his death in part because of his contradictions. A mama's boy/rebel, the loner amidst the entourage, and the painfully shy performer who confidently commanded audiences remains an enigma. Thirty-five years from now, the world will still be talking about, imitating, and singing along with the King.
Americans loved Elvis because he was unique. Americans loved Elvis because he was America.
-- Daniel J. Flynn at The American Spectator
_ _ _
"The army can do anything it wants with me," remarked Elvis Presley upon leaving for basic training in 1958. "Millions of other guys have been drafted, and I don't want to be different from anyone else." But Elvis was not like anyone else.
He wore sideburns and greasy long hair in the crew-cutted fifties. He played black music in the segregated South. He appeared in foppish fashions -- ascots, satin pants, pink shirts -- in t-shirt-and-jeans Memphis. As a teenage steady remembered, "I knew the first time I met him that he was not like other people."
This did not sit well with other people. Classmates cut the strings to his guitar. Other kids pitched rotten fruit at him. The coach kicked him off the high school football team, and a boss threatened to fire him, for refusing to get a haircut. "I felt really sorry for him," noted a classmate, who had defended Elvis from bullies. "He seemed very lonely and had no real friends. He just didn't seem to be able to fit in."
Elvis never fit in. He stood out. Greatness isn't about meshing with the crowd. Greatness requires the courage to stand apart. In an era derided as conformist, Elvis was an individual. He dared to be different.
One gleans just how much of a pariah the guitar-strumming teenager was from reading Peter Guralnick's Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. If the 20th century's most popular singer appeared as a show-business cliché at his death 35 years ago today, he projected so eccentric an image in his pre-fame Memphis days that the idea of him conquering the entertainment world would seem as bizarre to Memphians as Elvis appeared to them. If Elvis doesn't strike us today as outlandish, it is because we live in the world that Elvis made.
The individual who initially threatens the crowd eventually pleases the crowd. Mockers became imitators. "What he did," Grand Ole Opry member Jimmy "C" Newman told Guralnick, "was he changed it all around. After that we had to go to Texas to work, there wasn't any work anywhere else, because all they wanted was someone to imitate Elvis, to jump up and down on the stage and make a fool of themselves." Thirty-five years after his death, the high school outcast remains the world's most impersonated person.
"I don't sound like nobody," the inner-directed Elvis, to borrow David Riesman's famous fifties phrase, told Sun Records. His unique style extended from his dress to his art. The postwar star defied categorization. Critics labeled his music bebop, hillbilly, folk, country, and r&b, until finally settling on rock 'n' roll. Like his classmates, they sneered like snobs. The New York Times judged, "Mr. Presley has no discernable singing ability."
America disagreed. By late 1956, the phenom sold two-thirds of RCA's 45s. Between "Heartbreak Hotel" hitting #1 in April of 1956 and the induction of recruit #53310761 in March of 1958, the King reigned atop the singles sales charts for more than a year. Only a force as powerful as the U.S. Army could stop him.
Rather than overthrowing the American social order, Elvis was a product of it. Before his singing career, he mowed lawns, served as a theater usher, worked as a machinist, and drove a truck. He repeatedly affirmed his love of God and belief in the Bible. In these early years, he steered clear of drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes -- but not food or practical jokes. And even though girls literally ripped the clothes off his body, he generally stopped short of doing the same with his many dating partners. Above all, he loved his parents, lavishing a pink Cadillac and a mansion upon his mother before her death. The journey from the Lauderdale Courts housing project to Graceland was the American Dream on steroids.
Elvis enthralls 35 years after his death in part because of his contradictions. A mama's boy/rebel, the loner amidst the entourage, and the painfully shy performer who confidently commanded audiences remains an enigma. Thirty-five years from now, the world will still be talking about, imitating, and singing along with the King.
Americans loved Elvis because he was unique. Americans loved Elvis because he was America.
-- Daniel J. Flynn at The American Spectator
Yesterday was the 35th anniversary of Elvis's death, and I have come across a passionate little love note to the king marking the occasion. Personally, I have not been listening to any music lately. I have been more caught up in my books and blogging, which I am glad about. Besides, the little absence will only enrich my appreciation for Elvis when I do settle down to listen.
_ _ _
"The army can do anything it wants with me," remarked Elvis Presley upon leaving for basic training in 1958. "Millions of other guys have been drafted, and I don't want to be different from anyone else." But Elvis was not like anyone else.
He wore sideburns and greasy long hair in the crew-cutted fifties. He played black music in the segregated South. He appeared in foppish fashions -- ascots, satin pants, pink shirts -- in t-shirt-and-jeans Memphis. As a teenage steady remembered, "I knew the first time I met him that he was not like other people."
This did not sit well with other people. Classmates cut the strings to his guitar. Other kids pitched rotten fruit at him. The coach kicked him off the high school football team, and a boss threatened to fire him, for refusing to get a haircut. "I felt really sorry for him," noted a classmate, who had defended Elvis from bullies. "He seemed very lonely and had no real friends. He just didn't seem to be able to fit in."
Elvis never fit in. He stood out. Greatness isn't about meshing with the crowd. Greatness requires the courage to stand apart. In an era derided as conformist, Elvis was an individual. He dared to be different.
One gleans just how much of a pariah the guitar-strumming teenager was from reading Peter Guralnick's Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. If the 20th century's most popular singer appeared as a show-business cliché at his death 35 years ago today, he projected so eccentric an image in his pre-fame Memphis days that the idea of him conquering the entertainment world would seem as bizarre to Memphians as Elvis appeared to them. If Elvis doesn't strike us today as outlandish, it is because we live in the world that Elvis made.
The individual who initially threatens the crowd eventually pleases the crowd. Mockers became imitators. "What he did," Grand Ole Opry member Jimmy "C" Newman told Guralnick, "was he changed it all around. After that we had to go to Texas to work, there wasn't any work anywhere else, because all they wanted was someone to imitate Elvis, to jump up and down on the stage and make a fool of themselves." Thirty-five years after his death, the high school outcast remains the world's most impersonated person.
"I don't sound like nobody," the inner-directed Elvis, to borrow David Riesman's famous fifties phrase, told Sun Records. His unique style extended from his dress to his art. The postwar star defied categorization. Critics labeled his music bebop, hillbilly, folk, country, and r&b, until finally settling on rock 'n' roll. Like his classmates, they sneered like snobs. The New York Times judged, "Mr. Presley has no discernable singing ability."
America disagreed. By late 1956, the phenom sold two-thirds of RCA's 45s. Between "Heartbreak Hotel" hitting #1 in April of 1956 and the induction of recruit #53310761 in March of 1958, the King reigned atop the singles sales charts for more than a year. Only a force as powerful as the U.S. Army could stop him.
Rather than overthrowing the American social order, Elvis was a product of it. Before his singing career, he mowed lawns, served as a theater usher, worked as a machinist, and drove a truck. He repeatedly affirmed his love of God and belief in the Bible. In these early years, he steered clear of drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes -- but not food or practical jokes. And even though girls literally ripped the clothes off his body, he generally stopped short of doing the same with his many dating partners. Above all, he loved his parents, lavishing a pink Cadillac and a mansion upon his mother before her death. The journey from the Lauderdale Courts housing project to Graceland was the American Dream on steroids.
Elvis enthralls 35 years after his death in part because of his contradictions. A mama's boy/rebel, the loner amidst the entourage, and the painfully shy performer who confidently commanded audiences remains an enigma. Thirty-five years from now, the world will still be talking about, imitating, and singing along with the King.
Americans loved Elvis because he was unique. Americans loved Elvis because he was America.
-- Daniel J. Flynn at The American Spectator
_ _ _
"The army can do anything it wants with me," remarked Elvis Presley upon leaving for basic training in 1958. "Millions of other guys have been drafted, and I don't want to be different from anyone else." But Elvis was not like anyone else.
He wore sideburns and greasy long hair in the crew-cutted fifties. He played black music in the segregated South. He appeared in foppish fashions -- ascots, satin pants, pink shirts -- in t-shirt-and-jeans Memphis. As a teenage steady remembered, "I knew the first time I met him that he was not like other people."
This did not sit well with other people. Classmates cut the strings to his guitar. Other kids pitched rotten fruit at him. The coach kicked him off the high school football team, and a boss threatened to fire him, for refusing to get a haircut. "I felt really sorry for him," noted a classmate, who had defended Elvis from bullies. "He seemed very lonely and had no real friends. He just didn't seem to be able to fit in."
Elvis never fit in. He stood out. Greatness isn't about meshing with the crowd. Greatness requires the courage to stand apart. In an era derided as conformist, Elvis was an individual. He dared to be different.
One gleans just how much of a pariah the guitar-strumming teenager was from reading Peter Guralnick's Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley. If the 20th century's most popular singer appeared as a show-business cliché at his death 35 years ago today, he projected so eccentric an image in his pre-fame Memphis days that the idea of him conquering the entertainment world would seem as bizarre to Memphians as Elvis appeared to them. If Elvis doesn't strike us today as outlandish, it is because we live in the world that Elvis made.
The individual who initially threatens the crowd eventually pleases the crowd. Mockers became imitators. "What he did," Grand Ole Opry member Jimmy "C" Newman told Guralnick, "was he changed it all around. After that we had to go to Texas to work, there wasn't any work anywhere else, because all they wanted was someone to imitate Elvis, to jump up and down on the stage and make a fool of themselves." Thirty-five years after his death, the high school outcast remains the world's most impersonated person.
"I don't sound like nobody," the inner-directed Elvis, to borrow David Riesman's famous fifties phrase, told Sun Records. His unique style extended from his dress to his art. The postwar star defied categorization. Critics labeled his music bebop, hillbilly, folk, country, and r&b, until finally settling on rock 'n' roll. Like his classmates, they sneered like snobs. The New York Times judged, "Mr. Presley has no discernable singing ability."
America disagreed. By late 1956, the phenom sold two-thirds of RCA's 45s. Between "Heartbreak Hotel" hitting #1 in April of 1956 and the induction of recruit #53310761 in March of 1958, the King reigned atop the singles sales charts for more than a year. Only a force as powerful as the U.S. Army could stop him.
Rather than overthrowing the American social order, Elvis was a product of it. Before his singing career, he mowed lawns, served as a theater usher, worked as a machinist, and drove a truck. He repeatedly affirmed his love of God and belief in the Bible. In these early years, he steered clear of drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes -- but not food or practical jokes. And even though girls literally ripped the clothes off his body, he generally stopped short of doing the same with his many dating partners. Above all, he loved his parents, lavishing a pink Cadillac and a mansion upon his mother before her death. The journey from the Lauderdale Courts housing project to Graceland was the American Dream on steroids.
Elvis enthralls 35 years after his death in part because of his contradictions. A mama's boy/rebel, the loner amidst the entourage, and the painfully shy performer who confidently commanded audiences remains an enigma. Thirty-five years from now, the world will still be talking about, imitating, and singing along with the King.
Americans loved Elvis because he was unique. Americans loved Elvis because he was America.
-- Daniel J. Flynn at The American Spectator
Holographic technology has picked up, and the first big thing is apparently to bring celebrities back from the dead for one more show.
_ _ _
Elvis Presley: Live at the Bellagio.
It could happen. Kind of.
The haunting hologram of Tupac Shakur, which lit up the stage at California's Coachella music festival last weekend, is just the beginning of a new and lucrative revenue stream that could soon be available to dead celebrities, known in marketing circles as "delebs."
Hologram imaging has been around for awhile, but this past weekend was the first time a truly lifelike image of a deceased personality was able to truly wow the crowd.
Shakur’s hologram hollered to the masses: “What up, Coachella!” and then joined the rapper Snoop Dog for “Come With Me,” “Hail Mary” and “2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted.”
His holographic image and performance was 100 percent original, not cobbled or adapted from video of past performances. Which means any dead star, doing anything onstage, is now feasible.
-- Joe Piazza at Fox News
_ _ _
Personally, I find it is enough to listen to the old Elvis records and watch the old movies and concerts, but I would not care to spoil the party.
_ _ _
Elvis Presley: Live at the Bellagio.
It could happen. Kind of.
The haunting hologram of Tupac Shakur, which lit up the stage at California's Coachella music festival last weekend, is just the beginning of a new and lucrative revenue stream that could soon be available to dead celebrities, known in marketing circles as "delebs."
Hologram imaging has been around for awhile, but this past weekend was the first time a truly lifelike image of a deceased personality was able to truly wow the crowd.
Shakur’s hologram hollered to the masses: “What up, Coachella!” and then joined the rapper Snoop Dog for “Come With Me,” “Hail Mary” and “2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted.”
His holographic image and performance was 100 percent original, not cobbled or adapted from video of past performances. Which means any dead star, doing anything onstage, is now feasible.
-- Joe Piazza at Fox News
_ _ _
Personally, I find it is enough to listen to the old Elvis records and watch the old movies and concerts, but I would not care to spoil the party.
Holographic technology has picked up, and the first big thing is apparently to bring celebrities back from the dead for one more show.
_ _ _
Elvis Presley: Live at the Bellagio.
It could happen. Kind of.
The haunting hologram of Tupac Shakur, which lit up the stage at California's Coachella music festival last weekend, is just the beginning of a new and lucrative revenue stream that could soon be available to dead celebrities, known in marketing circles as "delebs."
Hologram imaging has been around for awhile, but this past weekend was the first time a truly lifelike image of a deceased personality was able to truly wow the crowd.
Shakur’s hologram hollered to the masses: “What up, Coachella!” and then joined the rapper Snoop Dog for “Come With Me,” “Hail Mary” and “2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted.”
His holographic image and performance was 100 percent original, not cobbled or adapted from video of past performances. Which means any dead star, doing anything onstage, is now feasible.
-- Joe Piazza at Fox News
_ _ _
Personally, I find it is enough to listen to the old Elvis records and watch the old movies and concerts, but I would not care to spoil the party.
_ _ _
Elvis Presley: Live at the Bellagio.
It could happen. Kind of.
The haunting hologram of Tupac Shakur, which lit up the stage at California's Coachella music festival last weekend, is just the beginning of a new and lucrative revenue stream that could soon be available to dead celebrities, known in marketing circles as "delebs."
Hologram imaging has been around for awhile, but this past weekend was the first time a truly lifelike image of a deceased personality was able to truly wow the crowd.
Shakur’s hologram hollered to the masses: “What up, Coachella!” and then joined the rapper Snoop Dog for “Come With Me,” “Hail Mary” and “2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted.”
His holographic image and performance was 100 percent original, not cobbled or adapted from video of past performances. Which means any dead star, doing anything onstage, is now feasible.
-- Joe Piazza at Fox News
_ _ _
Personally, I find it is enough to listen to the old Elvis records and watch the old movies and concerts, but I would not care to spoil the party.
From Starlet to Nun
Feb. 19th, 2012 08:03 am
Maureen Dowd gives us a delicious Elvis story. Well, it's only indirectly about Elvis, but that glow goes far. Let's just say that I think we know where they got the idea for the movie "Change of Habit", in which Mary Tyler Moore chooses to stay married to God rather than do the wild thing with Elvis.
( Read more... )
From Starlet to Nun
Feb. 19th, 2012 08:03 amMaureen Dowd gives us a delicious Elvis story. Well, it's only indirectly about Elvis, but that glow goes far. Let's just say that I think we know where they got the idea for the movie "Change of Habit", in which Mary Tyler Moore chooses to stay married to God rather than do the wild thing with Elvis.
( Read more... )
BDSM Elvis
Oct. 21st, 2011 08:31 pm
I do believe this is the king of rock and roll himself. I suppose this is a still from a movie, but I am ashamed not to be able to recognize it.
I gather that in real life Elvis was not especially kinky, promiscuous yes, but not really kinky, though he had a little thing for a woman's feet. To be sure, he liked to have his fun, and the fringe benefits of rock and roll stardom were not lost on the man.
BDSM Elvis
Oct. 21st, 2011 08:31 pmI do believe this is the king of rock and roll himself. I suppose this is a still from a movie, but I am ashamed not to be able to recognize it.
I gather that in real life Elvis was not especially kinky, promiscuous yes, but not really kinky, though he had a little thing for a woman's feet. To be sure, he liked to have his fun, and the fringe benefits of rock and roll stardom were not lost on the man.
Long Live the King, Baby
Aug. 17th, 2011 09:02 pmElvis Presley's death deprives our country of a part of itself. He was unique and irreplaceable. More than 20 years ago, he burst upon the scene with an impact that was unprecedented and will probably never be equaled. His music and his personality, fusing the styles of white country and black rhythm and blues, permanently changed the face of American popular culture. His following was immense, and he was a symbol to people the world over of the vitality, rebelliousness, and good humor of his country.
-- President Jimmy Carter, August 16, 1977
Yesterday was the 34th anniversary of the death of the King of Rock and Roll. But, as they say, long live the rocking king! I know I still listen to Elvis radio just about every day, and all pop stars today still seem to me to be pretenders, a pale imitation of the real thing.
-- President Jimmy Carter, August 16, 1977
Yesterday was the 34th anniversary of the death of the King of Rock and Roll. But, as they say, long live the rocking king! I know I still listen to Elvis radio just about every day, and all pop stars today still seem to me to be pretenders, a pale imitation of the real thing.
Long Live the King, Baby
Aug. 17th, 2011 09:02 pmElvis Presley's death deprives our country of a part of itself. He was unique and irreplaceable. More than 20 years ago, he burst upon the scene with an impact that was unprecedented and will probably never be equaled. His music and his personality, fusing the styles of white country and black rhythm and blues, permanently changed the face of American popular culture. His following was immense, and he was a symbol to people the world over of the vitality, rebelliousness, and good humor of his country.
-- President Jimmy Carter, August 16, 1977
Yesterday was the 34th anniversary of the death of the King of Rock and Roll. But, as they say, long live the rocking king! I know I still listen to Elvis radio just about every day, and all pop stars today still seem to me to be pretenders, a pale imitation of the real thing.
-- President Jimmy Carter, August 16, 1977
Yesterday was the 34th anniversary of the death of the King of Rock and Roll. But, as they say, long live the rocking king! I know I still listen to Elvis radio just about every day, and all pop stars today still seem to me to be pretenders, a pale imitation of the real thing.
Elvis: Comic Book Hero
Jul. 17th, 2011 08:51 pm"When I was a child, I was a dreamer. I read comic books and I was the hero of the comic book. … So every dream I ever dreamed has come true a hundred times."
-- Elvis Presley
For many, Elvis Presley was a true marvel. But what he really wanted to be was Captain Marvel.
The King of Rock 'n' Roll's love of superheroes and comic books is explored in Graphic Elvis, a collaboration between Liquid Comics and Elvis Presley Enterprises. The illustrated book will feature examples of comics' influence on Presley's personal and professional lives, and it allows a new generation of artists to create works inspired by his music, his archives and his personal and public experiences.
"Comics influenced so much of his life and made him a larger-than-life hero to so many people. It's paying homage to that on the 35th anniversary of his death (in 2012) and allowing today's generation of artists to do the same to him," says Sharad Devarajan, co-founder and CEO of Liquid Comics.
-- Brian Truitt for USA Today
Elvis's love of comics is news to me. But he probably could make a good comic-book hero: he rocks by night and fights crime by day! Think Batman in rhinestones with a guitar that doubles as an uzi machine gun, with special pills that give him super powers such as amping up his strength for a limited time. With no need to hide his handsome face behind a mask. We could bring out that kung-fu side of him. This isn't what they are doing, I take it, but I like both ideas, theirs and mine. Too bad I cannot draw.
-- Elvis Presley
For many, Elvis Presley was a true marvel. But what he really wanted to be was Captain Marvel.
The King of Rock 'n' Roll's love of superheroes and comic books is explored in Graphic Elvis, a collaboration between Liquid Comics and Elvis Presley Enterprises. The illustrated book will feature examples of comics' influence on Presley's personal and professional lives, and it allows a new generation of artists to create works inspired by his music, his archives and his personal and public experiences.
"Comics influenced so much of his life and made him a larger-than-life hero to so many people. It's paying homage to that on the 35th anniversary of his death (in 2012) and allowing today's generation of artists to do the same to him," says Sharad Devarajan, co-founder and CEO of Liquid Comics.
-- Brian Truitt for USA Today
Elvis's love of comics is news to me. But he probably could make a good comic-book hero: he rocks by night and fights crime by day! Think Batman in rhinestones with a guitar that doubles as an uzi machine gun, with special pills that give him super powers such as amping up his strength for a limited time. With no need to hide his handsome face behind a mask. We could bring out that kung-fu side of him. This isn't what they are doing, I take it, but I like both ideas, theirs and mine. Too bad I cannot draw.
Elvis: Comic Book Hero
Jul. 17th, 2011 08:51 pm"When I was a child, I was a dreamer. I read comic books and I was the hero of the comic book. … So every dream I ever dreamed has come true a hundred times."
-- Elvis Presley
For many, Elvis Presley was a true marvel. But what he really wanted to be was Captain Marvel.
The King of Rock 'n' Roll's love of superheroes and comic books is explored in Graphic Elvis, a collaboration between Liquid Comics and Elvis Presley Enterprises. The illustrated book will feature examples of comics' influence on Presley's personal and professional lives, and it allows a new generation of artists to create works inspired by his music, his archives and his personal and public experiences.
"Comics influenced so much of his life and made him a larger-than-life hero to so many people. It's paying homage to that on the 35th anniversary of his death (in 2012) and allowing today's generation of artists to do the same to him," says Sharad Devarajan, co-founder and CEO of Liquid Comics.
-- Brian Truitt for USA Today
Elvis's love of comics is news to me. But he probably could make a good comic-book hero: he rocks by night and fights crime by day! Think Batman in rhinestones with a guitar that doubles as an uzi machine gun, with special pills that give him super powers such as amping up his strength for a limited time. With no need to hide his handsome face behind a mask. We could bring out that kung-fu side of him. This isn't what they are doing, I take it, but I like both ideas, theirs and mine. Too bad I cannot draw.
-- Elvis Presley
For many, Elvis Presley was a true marvel. But what he really wanted to be was Captain Marvel.
The King of Rock 'n' Roll's love of superheroes and comic books is explored in Graphic Elvis, a collaboration between Liquid Comics and Elvis Presley Enterprises. The illustrated book will feature examples of comics' influence on Presley's personal and professional lives, and it allows a new generation of artists to create works inspired by his music, his archives and his personal and public experiences.
"Comics influenced so much of his life and made him a larger-than-life hero to so many people. It's paying homage to that on the 35th anniversary of his death (in 2012) and allowing today's generation of artists to do the same to him," says Sharad Devarajan, co-founder and CEO of Liquid Comics.
-- Brian Truitt for USA Today
Elvis's love of comics is news to me. But he probably could make a good comic-book hero: he rocks by night and fights crime by day! Think Batman in rhinestones with a guitar that doubles as an uzi machine gun, with special pills that give him super powers such as amping up his strength for a limited time. With no need to hide his handsome face behind a mask. We could bring out that kung-fu side of him. This isn't what they are doing, I take it, but I like both ideas, theirs and mine. Too bad I cannot draw.
