WARNING: If you haven’t seen the October 16 episode of ABC’s Scandal, you might not want to read this ranting article.

Scandal, America’s favorite political drama, is back and off to an auspicious start, but this viewer is perturbed. At the close of season 3 last April, I expressed my grave disappointment in how the unmasking of First Lady Mellie Grant’s (Bellamy Young) rape by her father-in-law was written. In short, my opinion and grievance was that Mellie’s story was made about Olivia Pope (the lead character and her husband’s mistress) and that President Fitzgerald’s response was nonsensically contradicting and unfeeling. Given the sweeping finale (a lot went down), I had hopes that this plotline would be fleshed out in season 4, but after Thursday’s episode, “Like Father, Like Daughter,” I’m not as optimistic.

After the death of their son, Jerry Jr., both Fitz and Mellie suffered emotional breakdowns. Fitz (Tony Goldwyn) had a failed suicide attempt, but eventually buried himself in presidential duties to stay afloat. Mellie began over-eating, became an alcoholic and stopped showering, grooming and caring about White House affairs. She’d visit Jerry Jr.’s grave wearing a bathrobe and Ugg boots and lay in the grass. Their teen daughter, Karen, was quickly sent back to boarding school to resume her life. When Mellie tries to assert her position as a mother and fumes that Olivia (Kerry Washington) was the first called to handle Karen’s sex-tape drama, Fitz snaps, “I have dealt with drunk Mellie and smelly Mellie and screw-everything-to-hell Mellie and crybaby Mellie and eat-everything-that-is-not-nailed-down Mellie and I have not complained. But I will not put up with whatever righteous, history-rewriting Mellie you have going on…This is not your family, you are not the mother…since Jerry died you have abdicated your role; you have mothered no one…Olivia Pope is fixing this mess, this mess that you made…we made…I know I share some guilt in all of this, but you want to know the difference between you and me?...All day, every day…I’m grieving the loss of my son, but I am also running a country!”  

Fitz is such a disgusting, impudent, ungrateful creature with too much nerve. How dare Fitz go on about how he’s had the strength to continue running the country, when his wife is the one who got him in office, rigging elections and supporting his political career to the point of forfeiting justice for her rape and raising the child whom she thought was the product of said attack for 15 years. That same child died right before her eyes and instead of clinging onto her in his anguish, Fitz begged for his mistress. A mistress that Mellie had to sit back and let Fitz have because she knew she couldn’t stand to be intimate with the man she loved after what happened to her. She had to sit back, feel, breed and watch Fitz’s resentment of her unfurl and fester, while harboring a burdening a secret. She sacrificed her marriage, justice and sanity to preserve Fitz’s spirit and dreams. How dare he call her a “crybaby” and criticize her for crumbling; it’s a wonder she didn’t snap earlier! You want to know why Mellie isn’t holding it together anymore, Fitz? She’s been doing it for the last 15 years! That’s why, you piece of crap! How dare he ridicule her parenting when he has never parented his children! You didn’t have that very necessary and consoling talk with Karen about grief, notoriety and sexuality--Mellie did! “I’m running a country!” Oh? Well, who helped you run it while you were in a coma and sharks were circling to take your place? Mellie. There was a half-hearted, rushed scene where Fitz tells Mellie he knows about her assault in season 3. We have yet to see a thorough moment of acknowledgement, sensitivity or gratitude from Fitz. Don’t say, “What about his give-her-what-she-wants attitude?” He canceled all that out with his little “Smelly Mellie” speech and his tries at shirking responsibility. He had to correct himself when he said “the mess you made” and followed that with “I know I share some of the guilt in all of this, but…”

As usual, in the midst of all the chaos and Olivia informing him that the holders of the sex-tape wished to monetarily blackmail his family, Fitz focuses on his paramour. He cockily, no pun intended, does his typical “all I have to do is kiss and/or stick my hand down Olivia’s skirt and I can have my way” move. Since Olivia pathetically has no will-power (which is part of the reason Fitz is cocky), she admits she was with Jake Ballard, Fitz’s romantic rival, when she tried to escape her life to a hidden island to get Fitz to back away. Being the childish, hypocritical, fragile-to-ego-bruising guy he is, he instantly flips to detesting Olivia, roughly grabbing and shoving her arm away and dismissing her. No double standards or anything. 

With things being written this way, it adds to the continual and problematic practice of using rape as a quick, sensationalist plot device (especially to propel other characters), instead of something to help give a voice to the voiceless. These kinds of stories should be teachable moments to reduce the callous and avoidant ignorance on the topic that results in sexual attacks in the first place and lack of proper support for victims. It’s a disservice to our society when characters like Mellie are disenfranchised. There are hundreds of well-written articles and blogs describing the various ways in which media mishandles rape, from using it as a way to soften characters or make them more endearing, to explain brokenness, advance plots or gain ratings. Perhaps Fitz’s behavior and response, if you could call it that, is supposed to exemplify how much of a selfish person he is, but I doubt there’s a method to the madness of dropping this ball. Justice for Mellie!

Album Review.
Overall: Great voice, decent lyrics, but musically sleepy

Over the last 3 years, there’s been a lot rumbling about soul/R&B singer-songwriter Luke James, who’s known for his visceral, yet sweet vocal delivery. This was the lone star of his long-awaited self-titled launch, however, that travels through a tumultuous relationship that started out of lust.  James didn’t slouch on the lyrics and a few of the songs are written with evident heart and honesty, but musically, the record kind of sleeps. I listened to this album several times and lasting interest never arose. I wasn’t compelled to hit ‘repeat.’ On tracks like “The Run” and “Glass House,” brewing drama never boiled into near-histrionics because of missing musical flair. “Make Love to Me” is saucier, but of course, the lyrics were paper thin. James’ stripped cover of the Sam Smith hit “Stay with Me” is a gleaming stand-out. His delineation of bitterness and vulnerability through voice and word is remarkable, but this album proves that peanut butter and jelly are excellent together, but there’s no enjoying it if you don’t have bread. 

Album Review.
Overall: 70’s influenced, but the 2014 image doesn’t match; a little monotone

*Rubs temples* It’s weird how Jennifer Hudson’s new album JHUD (the chic nickname affectionately given to her by fans) is different from and similar to Chris Brown’s X all at the same time. Like Brown, Hudson had the goal reveling in a former period of R&B, but fell disappointingly short of the glory days for standing firm in 2014. She didn’t totally give up that new ghost. Hudson reached out for the 1970’s; the grooving rhythms are lifting and funky and some make you picture the disco “One Night Only” scene in Dreamgirls. Don’t be mad at me for adding to the continuing mentioning of Dreamgirls when discussing Jennifer; blame “It’s Your World” (featuring R.Kelly) and “I Still Love You.” The glitch is that the music tends not to go anywhere; there’s no momentum, no build-up, no big, anticipatory moments. Where it starts is where it stays and the grooves aren’t contagious enough to get away with looping, like Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby” or Beyonce’s “Party.” Sometimes a looped track is enhanced with melodious harmonies and dazzling lead vocals, but since Hudson’s tone is naturally thick, restraint is occasionally needed. Restraint isn’t a good counterpart to repetition, though, so it makes things kind of boring. The Timbaland-produced “Walk it Out” is slinky, sexy and comely, but the coarse attitude of the lyrics repels you in the opposite direction. Already about taking on a one-night-stand, Hudson coos “F*** it, let’s do this today…I’ll be on that good s***, I’ll be on that hood s***.” What? “Gangsta sexpot” is kind of a theme on the album and despite Hudson’s claim that the project represents her vs. “Jennifer Hudson the persona,” it just blurs her in with everything else out there right now. This is going to sound terrible, but if “gangsta sexpot” is who she really is musically, then I’ll take the persona for $200, Alex. I don’t listen to her for that. I don’t tune into a Jennifer Hudson album to be reminded of Chris Brown or hear an unnecessary Iggy Azalea feature. Near the album’s conclusion, she has the nerve to have a song called “Bring Back the Music.” Please follow your own request. I’ll admit, she indeed seems more comfortable and attached to this material than that of her previous 2 albums. In my review for her sophomore I Remember Me, I predicted that her 3rd album would be a medium between its predecessors, but in a way that would retrieve the best parts of each, not the negatives. Her self-titled entrance had the aspiration of bringing her classic voice to current ears, but was an awfully forgettable conglomerate of reject tracks from 2008 and the 90’s diva era. Remember was inclusively written well, but had the same monotony issues as this album. JHUD’s 70’s recall was a great way to start the engine, but the too-contemporary lyrics and musical flat-lining couldn’t step on the gas and get the car going. I left Brown’s X with 3 favorite songs; I don’t have any on JHUD. I can’t say I saw that coming.

Album Review.
Likes: Add Me In, Autumn Leaves, Drunk Texting, Fine China
Dislikes: Loyal, Came to Do, Drown In it, Love More, Body Shots
Overall: Musically strong, but his intent to be throwback is stifled by terrible, new school lyrics

After multiple delays, business conflicts and personal legal obstructions, Chris Brown’s X has arrived. It’s definitely 1 of those albums where you ask yourself if you should more heavily praise the artist for their attempt or criticize them for their failure to fully and properly execute their intended objective. With homage to and features from R&B’s last great era and spot on, thirst-quenching incarnations of Michael Jackson, it’s apparent that Brown desired to go *Christina Aguilera voice* back to basics, but it’s like he couldn’t help but smell of the death that is current R&B. Rebounding from the superficially trendy musical production of the previous Fortune album, X’s techno, R&B and southern hip-hop fusions have more integrity, especially with the reduced prominence of traditional euro-pop patterns and use of auto-tune. Although his boyish tone still dominates, Brown shows there might be 1 or 2 more colors to his voice. On “Don’t Be Gone Too Long” with Ariana Grande, for example, he almost sounds like a different person (Grande is also unrecognizable). Some of the album’s finer moments are the Jackson-typed “Add Me In” and “Fine China.” Many modern artists claim to have been influenced by the King of Pop, but few actually incorporate the inspiration into their music. I appreciate Brown’s audacity to go there and his ability to nail the Jackson magnetism, charisma and technique that’s so needed in today’s popular music.

Where Brown misses his “go in the R&B vault” target is in the lyrics. As a result of hip-hop’s influence on contemporary R&B, seduction is a lost art. The love songs, which are already without ardor, are juxtaposed with degradation and disrespect (ex. “These hoes ain’t loyal”). “Came to Do” has lines about getting a woman under the influence so she’ll be more susceptible to accepting the dick he’s offering, but Brown declares it’s “for all the ladies.” I didn’t hear anything for me in that song. If life was a Broadway play, “Came to Do” would be the song performed when that annoying drunk guy slides up to you at the bar and calls himself spitting game, saying very inappropriate things while grabbing his penis and bragging about its girth. It made me think of the “Whispering Playa” interlude on TLC’s Fanmail album. Even “Add” has a tacky twist, speaking of hooking up in the back of the club. Tracks like “Loyal” and “Came to Do” set the tone for the sexual songs, which have no craft, thought or charm with ridiculously literal descriptions, pumped with arrogant testosterone. As for the throwbackN’B features, following the lyrical tribute to R.Kelly’s debut Songs on 12 Play (a duet with Brown contemporary Trey Songz), is an appearance from Kelly on “Drown in It,” which implements the most exhausted sexual analogy in music. If I hear another song comparing my vagina to a body of water, I’m going to lose it. The amount of Kelly in the air (including that Songz claims him as an influence) begs the question if hip-hop was the only suspect in the murder of R&B. Most would more closely tie Brown’s musical lineage to Usher (also a student of MJ), but his bid on “New Flame” does nothing to keep the track from being a dud. “Do Better” with Brandy did better at catching my attention, but hearing the trailblazer (I hate when people ignore or downplay her achievements) use the N-word and swear is more new school than I’d prefer.

So, again, I wondered if I should give Chris Brown an “E” for effort or a letter grade actually used in American education. Having enough cognizance to A) realize we need to go back to basics, B) channel Michael Jackson and C) put Usher and Brandy on same album are all good things; lots of points for that. However, those points can be deducted if you don’t quite go back to basics. Lyrics that are prosaic, sexually cheap, require a parental advisory label and are *Dr. Phil voice* offensive to my sensibilities as a woman negated any nod to the past he made. In the words of Brandy, “Almost Doesn’t Count.”