GOD IN 3 PERSONS
UNCLE WILLIE'S HIGHLY OPINIONATED GUIDE TO THE RESIDENTS
God in Three Persons is a tremendously complex piece of
writing—almost a Residents novel in its length and symbolic
depth of meaning. The album seemed to present “the new
Residents.” Several things seemed particularly modern and
different about their approach. For one thing, it was the
first Residents album conceived especially for CD, a full
60 minutes instead of the 40 minute playing time of
conventional albums. It was also the first Residents album
recorded for a label other than Ralph. It was created for
the better distributed and far blander RYKO Disc label.
It was pointed out that The Residents had a new sound
because in 1988 their studio was no longer a “mad scientist
laboratory” but had become an “instrument under perfect
control.” The group themselves wrote this off as an
inevitable by-product of their artistic maturity. As a
result, the music here is not earth shattering, but
orderly, pleasant, and workman-like in its craftsmanship.
Anyone who bought this album looking for the maniacal music
of The Residents' past would have been sorely disappointed.
But the music was also subtle to suit a purpose. This was a
soundtrack—incidental, and therefore subordinate, to the
narration it accompanies. The music functions as emotional
embellishment to the narration or to create atmosphere.
The most important element of their new sound (for this
project, at least) was the appearance of The Residents
first totally coherent lyrics. On the surface, the album
tells the story of a pair of androgynous Siamese twins and
the sado-masochistic cowboy who loves them. The narrative
tells the story of their first meeting, the cowboy’s (aka
Mr. X) and the twins personal histories, Mr. X’s
exploitation of the twins talents as faith healers, and the
trio’s furtive sexual dalliances. All of this builds to a
spectacular and disturbing climax.
Symbolically, however, the story conveys deeply profound
meanings. The characters personify the interrelationships
and conflicts between the Western trinity and Eastern
duality. Mr. X is a cowboy (cowboys being the stereotypical
inhabitants of “the West”) and the twins are Siamese (Siam
being in the East).
Like the yin and yang of Eastern religion, the twins are
both male and female, submissive and dominant, worldly and
naïve. Like the yin and yang, these qualities in the twins
are in a constant state of flux, with neither twin
completely male or female.
Mr. X, being a very masculine and heterosexual
representation of God, naturally falls in love with the
twins, seeing only their sweet, submissive feminine
characteristics. Before long, though, he begins to
recognize the maleness that is swimming around in their
being, and schemes to split the two with a razor, hopefully
confining each gender to a separate half.
In the album's climax, Mr. X confronts the twins. They mock
him, forcing him to realize that the twins are not
necessarily virginal and innocent, but are also worldly and
experienced. He realizes that the twins who had been his
slaves were now his masters. He realizes (to his shock)
that the love for what he perceived to be the female part
of the twins, he had also felt for the inseparably male
part of the twins, and that by extension, his love for the
twins was both heterosexual and homosexual. In a stroke of
pure genius, The Residents wrote a composition in which Mr.
X is forced to see that he too, is composed of a duality of
emotion and beliefs. The realization that homosexuality is
part of this make-up forces him to understand that his
passion for the twins is comprised of both love and hate.
In the literal interpretation of the story, Mr. X, in a fit
of anger, violently seperates the twins. In the figurative
story, Mr. X is desperately trying to maintain his unique
identity rather than merge into the duality that his
trinity cosmology denies. He divides them in a futile
attempt to maintain the trinity, but it is impossible—he
merges with them in a bizarre sadomasochistic sex act.
The sex act combines all the dualities—love and hate,
tenderness and violence, heterosexuality and homosexuality,
sin and purity, earthiness and transcendence.
Ironically, but all too appropriately, in the album’s
resolution, the three of them are now separate and united.
The connection was both temporary and permanent. They are
still a trinity, but are also a duality. All these
dualities will forever remain separate but inseparable.
Groovy, isn’t it?
- Sinister Scratcher