Yo what’s good son? This week on Thug Notes we separating wheat from chaff
with The Crucible by Arthur Miller.
Things ain’t right up in 1692 Massachusetts where Reverand Parris’s baby
girl Betty in bed straight clocked out. See, last night Parris peeped Betty freakin all
pagan-like with her cousin Abigail and slave Tituba, and now word on the street is witchraft
be involved- and the uptight peeps of Salem ain’t havin none of that.
When the play’s hero John Proctor rolls in to see what’s what, Abigail gets
all up on his baby- maker like ugly on yo mama.
Apparently, Abigail used to be Proctor’s maid but got her ass tossed out when Proctor’s
wife Elizabeth found her shining more than Proctor’s
shoes. Straight scandalous!
Even though Proctor been doggin Abigail since then, she still think that if
Elizabeth was outta the picture, she’d be his new wifey.
Later, word come that homies gettin accused of witchcraft left and right. Turns
out, Abigail playin dirty and say Elizabeth been sippin dat witches joose. So the fuzz
get all up in the Proctor’s grill and throw her ass behind bars.
So Proctor busts in to court and try to free his boo, but all dat real talk backfires and
gets his ass thrown in the big house. And the only way out is by lying and
admitting that he part of the devil’s posse.
Proctor keeps it OG and don’t play dat game til he gets a visit from his dip
Elizabeth. And eventually he decides to fess up to something he ain’t even do.
When the law start sayin that they gonna need a written confession so they can
show all the hood, Proctor says “Hell naw!” Cuz he ain’t gonna let them use his name
on the street like dat. So he tears that sh** up, struts up to the gallows, and goes out
like a gangsta.
Not only is this play flowin bout events that really took place way back when, but Miller
also pimpin some parable up in here. See, Miller wanted
to give a big “fu** you” to 1950s McCarthyism- a time when a whole bunch of Americans started
pointin fingers at they own peeps in the name of tryin to sniff out any commies.
And in Miller’s mind, those snitch Americans only know guilty and not guilty.
Like he say-
See the problem up in here is peoples always viewing things in extremes.
To them, it’s all black and white which means that if something ain’t of God, then
it must be of the devil.
So what starts out as political opposites turns in to moral opposites. Dem
crooked right wingers have made it so that Capitalists are all holy, and communists ain’t
nothing but devil worshippers.
But it ain’t just political power plays people trying to pawn. Sometimes
you just gotta stab a brutha in the back, but dress it up like you doin the world a
favor.
What you know bout this play’s title, partner? According to Martine, a crucible
is a severe test, obviously referrin to the raw grind Proctor beastin through. And if
you wanna keep it mad literal, a crucible also used to melt away all da chanky bullsh**
on a piece of metal til all that’s left is pure, uncut, top-grade steel.
So is the play saying that Proctor is the purity that comes out of all this crooked
ass mess? Are we supposed to put it all on the line for our beliefs? Maybe. But truth
is, John’s death doesn’t prove nothing to nobody. You best not forget what Reverand
Hale say to Elizabeth in the last act of
the play:
Don’t be a playa hater, get yo’self some Thug Notes swag and tell yo mama to subscribe.
Peace playas!