What’s good y’all?
This week on Thug Notes we crackin’ UP wit One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey.
Thangs WHACK as usual up in da nut house, where we gettin the DL from our HUGE ASS narrator
Chief Bromden.
Dude been survivin’ in this trap fo’ years by fakin’ like he don’t speak and can’t hear shit.
Chief layin low like he do, when WILD-ass white boy Randle McMurphy come rollin’ in.
Mac may SEEM like he screwy in da head, but on the real, he just puttin up a front so
he can kick it in the loony bin instead of doin’ hard labor in the slammer.
Ain’t nuthin tickle McMurphy’s balls mo’ than raisin’ hell and stickin’ it to the man.
Up in here, tho, “THE MAN” is Nurse Ratched, a hardass she-beast who runs the ward wit
an iron first, an’ perfect pair o’ tit-tays.
No, fo’ real man, page 11 say she got some NICE boobs.
Despite being a baby-face beezy with a soft voice, girl swingin the biggest d*ck in da ward.
Ratched runnin deez boys lives like they ain’t nuthin but her puppets.
She FORCE em’ to pop pillz on the daily; she ZAP their brains with Electro shock treatment,
talk smack right to their FACES, pit them against each other during therapy and even
LOBOTOMIZES em’ when they step outta line.
Mac-daddy ain’t gonna let this bitch do his boys like dat.
So brutha mess with Nurse Ratched’s head by fuckin’ up her perfect system: he talk
mess behind her back, start runnin’ an illegal game of cards, kick up a shit storm demanding
to watch the World series, and even jacks a boat so da whole posse can get their fishing game on.
But Nurse Ratched don’t play man.
When she bout had it with Macmurphy’s bullshit, she strap him to a bed and give him electro
shock treatment straight to the dome.
BZZZZZZ!
DAYUM, GIRL.
THAT’S HARSH!
It ain’t all bad, though.
McMurphy’s “fuck da man” attitude inspires the other homies to start stickin up fo’ themselves.
Even Chief show his real self to Mac and soon enough, they become real tight.
Lata, McMurphy decide to go hard in the paint and sneak two hoes into the joint so his boy
Billy can lose his cherry.
Errybody havin’ a good ol’ time drankin on some liquor, poppin pillz, and sippin on
sizzurp they got from the pharmacy.
After everybody pass da fuck out, Nurse Ratched walks in on a COMPLETE SHITSHOW.
Billy got dat goofy-ass smile on his face now that he nutted, but when Ratched threatens
to tell his mama that her boy been stickin his dick in some strange, brutha WIGS OUT
AND SLICES HIS OWN THROAT.
DAMMNN!
HE DEAD!
After Ratche try to blame McMurphy fo’ Billy’s suicide, Mac goes HYPHY an’ straight
CHOKES A BITCH!
Oh yeah, and he rips her dress open and dem tit-tays start bouncin all over the place.
It's in the book man!
He don’t kill her, but girl is F**KED up and can’t speak fo’ weeks.
Gettin crunk on Nurse Ratched like that make the law come down on Mac HARD.
They strap him to the table again and give him a lobotomy.
Now he ain’t nuthin mo’ than a mindless zombie.
But Chief don’t want to see his boy go out like dat.
People need to remember him as da righteous gangsta he was, not this busted-ass thang
thats been broken by the system.
Da haters can’t win!
So Chief puts a pillow over McMurphy’s face and ghosts him.
But with love, ya know?
Then brutha lifts a heavy-as-fuck control panel, chucks it through the window, and busts
ass outta dat institution.
When this book hit da streets in the 1960s, dark shit was goin down at asylums on da reg-
patients gettin whooped on, humiliated, and put on the short leash like they ain’t nuthin
but dogs.
When you treated like less than human, how da hell you gonna survive when you get out?
Ain’t that the f**king POINT of getting treatment???
Nobody better representin’ this crooked bulls**t than one of da biggest ball breakers
in all da lit game: Nurse Ratchety-Ratched.
“You’re committed, you realize.
You are … under the jurisdiction of me … the staff.”
She’s holding up a fist, all those red-orange fingernails burning into her palm.
“Under jurisdiction and control-” (127-28) Girl flexin’ her authority like a straight
up dictator.
She FORCE homies to take pillz they don’t wanna take, she schedule every minute of their
lives, man- she even got a lock on what what go on inside their heads.
Instead of buildin’ a brutha up, she jus’ break em down til they can’t even function
outside da system.
Their bunk-ass situation best represented by dat big hydro console.
That thang so damn heavy, there ain’t no chance it’s goin anywhere.
Just like dem boys- They ain’t never gonna leave this trap cuz da system weighin down
on their confidence like a ball and chain.
But when Mac roll up on the spot, he take a big ol dump on Ratched’s game by tryin
to lift dat console- both metaphorically and on the real.
See, he tryna convince deez cats that they don’t need some bitchy hag with giant tits
tellin’ em they broken and need to be controlled.
Naw, blood.
They got da juice to control they OWN lives.
They just need someone like Mac to give em the confidence to buck Ratched’s crooked system.
When Chief chunk dat big console out the window, he do just that- he liberates them from da
mental bulls**t that’s been weighin em down fo years.
Da scurriest thang is tho this ratchedy ass nurse don’t need no muscle to flex like
a dictator.
Naw.
This girl’s most gangsta weapon is her voice.
Her soft, bitchy flow is enough to make a brutha’s nuts shrivel up to raisins!
What makes it so dangerous is dat she able to front like she bein’ pleasant, but on
the real, she controllin these homies like the nastiest of thugz.
So when Mac take her voice away fo a couple weeks after chokin her out, it’s like he
taking away her power, man.
Ratched is too gangsta to just sit back and take it.
She gets back at Mac by taking away HIS power- the ability to inspire confidence and freedom
in da boyz.
But Chief don’t let it go down like dat.
By killing Mac before erryone see him all whacked out in da head, Chief allows Mac’s
message to live on.
The system might be able to break a man, but they can't break an idea.
Mac sacrificin’ himself to inspire da other homies make him straight Jesus-like.
Fo one, when he take the bruthas on a fishing trip, there’s 12 of em- just like Jesus
and his 12 apostles.
And just check these quotes when he bout to get zapped: “Anointest my head with conductant.
Do I get a crown of thorns?”
(237) “You are strapped to a table, shaped, ironically, like a cross, with a crown of
electric sparks in place of thorns.”
(64-65)
Yuh, it sound like McMurphy’s a pretty righteous dude, but is it for real?
Does he really want the men to grow bigger balls and stand up for themselves, or does
he just like f**king with people?
After all, this playa lied about bein’ cray just so he could dodge hard labor, so we know
he ain’t da MOST jesus-like dude.
Maybe Mack doesn’t give a s**t about the others.
Maybe he just like to start s**t so he ain’t bored.
We may not have nuthouses that do you like this anymo’, but da don’t mean we free
from dat kinda mental control.
These days, we told dat any problem can be solved by just poppin a pill.
If you got somethin abnormal about you, then you SICK and gotta be treated.
So has any real progress been made since this book hit the streets?
Have we really broken out of these crooked institutions?
Or are we all we just living in a BIGGER institution? Hmm..
Yo thanks for kickin it wit yo boy, man.
I'll catch y’all next time, padnas.
Peace.