Gwen Stefani's questionable "Christmas" Special — a micro review

© 2017 Peter Free

 

13 December 2017

 

 

Caveat

 

Showing my age?

 

 

A mild swipe at cutsey-pie Gwen and hunky-dorable Blake

 

What's in a name?

 

Take Gwen Stefani's Christmas Special.

 

Stefani and clan strutted crotch-high, elegantly bare legs around like Hugh Hefner's favoritely sexy, dolly-babes.

 

Even the Christmas Special's gingerbread men simulated porking these frolicking hip wrigglers.

 

Really.

 

And the crux of the ornate production was not Gwen's love for the Holy Newborn in the manager. But instead that for the notably less celestial Blake Shelton, reputedly sexiest man alive.

 

 

The moral? — "Christmas" special? — my ass

 

This crew metaphorically left a battered Jesus conveniently parked in a dumpster somewhere along their route to the stage. Where they then vomited narcissistic crassness under the guise of a purportedly religious holiday.

 

I am not arguing Stefani's talent. Just her lack of humility and taste.

 

The coarsening of American culture becomes ever more evident. Our Pussy Grabber in Chief will be thrilled.

 

Even diligent secularism has aesthetic standards. It should not pirate religious events to promote the baseness that those are aimed against.