Yaassss!!!!! Gladiate yourself up out that bitch, black lady!!!!
Droppin’ bread crumbs like Gretel for the Gladiators back at home. Boss!
I don’t feel sorry for you. You were so careless, trying to grab power for yourself. The man you are with has no integrity. Look what he’s done so he could what, have enough power (the presidency) to get the girl (Mellie) in the end? That’s not power. That’s a whack ass bitch baby.
OMG, I died when Marla Gibbs (heh, ‘Rose’. Scandal writers I see y'all) came up in the house talmbout where’s the black lady. She Maury Povich-ed the shit out of Quinn.
She was like, you are NOT the black lady. Anyway, aww, I’m so happy Ms. Lois trusted Olivia. Obvs Olivia respects her elders, and had a relationship with her. Rowan, this doesn’t apply to you. Once again, RIP. They could have been beautiful neighbors. I guess they were. I guess they were.
Speaking of the way they were…
Then all the memories going through Fitz’s head had me like,
All the ones that were meaningful to him were meaningful to me, too.Also, FITZGERALD GRANT, SIR, my fucking emotions. Your face. I can’t
Y'all Fitz did one better than 301 in the bunker. He told Mellie straight up, I LOVE HER. I was like,
The last time Fitz declared his love 'for another woman’ (301), Mellie did some foolish shit to save herself from the embarrassment of their coming out affair. This time she does something to help find 'precious Olivia Pope’. But make no mistake, as she said in 303, if Olivia dies, Mellie is screwed. But way to go, Mellie.
That scene with Tom? Fitz sat in (prolly) the same chair, in that same room months ago with Rowan (in chains). Rowan called him a boy. Now we have Tom (again in chains), sitting in the same position, calling Fitz a man. In that same room. Damn. Speaking of damn…
Ms. Debbie Allen, m'am, that shot on the Truman Balcony as it changed from night to day….
LOVED It! Also, You conveyed so well with the camera that Fitz was being followed and watched at every turn. The sense of paranoia and additional stress of holding that in while it’s tearing you the fuck up inside. Hats off to you Ms. Allen and to my baby, Tony Goldwyn.
Umm, Jake, you wanted to be the hero. Unfortunately for you, this isn’t Olivia’s dream, so
Cuz we gladiating up in this bitch and you’re not a gladiator. Sorry, just had to meet my weekly hateration quota.
I’m left with one perplexing question after this episode:
I grew up eating chickens (and eggs and cheese and cows and turkeys and…) but that is not where the story ends. That was how I was raised, yes, but I have kept evolving. So have millions of other people who do not accept that our history is carved onto us as our destiny.
Still, how many times have I heard people say, in an attempt to justify current habits, that they “grew up on the veal parmigiana that my Nonna made” or “I was raised in a family that ate a lot of meat,” or “Polish food is very meat-centric and that was how I grew up,” or whatever it is that they say? A lot.
I’m going to hazard a guess that the concept of HISTORY AS DESTINY is a pretty ingrained one that many of us hold as true.
Also, in addition to our food culture, there are other family legacies we may have been raised with in our households. Legacies of abuse. Legacies of addiction. Legacies of all sorts of things we don’t necessarily want to carry over into in our own lives. These legacies may feel comfortable to us because they are familiar but if they harm ourselves or others, how can we justify not trying our best to break the cycle?