Photo courtesy of AMCTV.com

On Tuesday, the Food and Drug Administration began enforcing a ban on flavored-cigarette sales in the U.S. The ban, part of the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act, puts the kibosh on selling, importing, distributing, or manufacturing any flavored cigarette (save for menthol), meaning you can smoke 'em if you got 'em, but getting them is going to be difficult.

Scott Hensley at NPR claims this as a victory for the teenage rite of passage, and cheers the fact that kids will no longer have to choke on nasty clove cigarettes behind the bleachers:

It was a terrible experience, and sitting near somebody smoking them was even worse than the half-dozen numbing puffs we took ourselves.

So we imagine most kids, other than a few wannabe bohemians, are celebrating.

Turns out preventing those teenage moments is the point: by banning cigs that are fruity in flavor, the Feds hope to discourage kids from smoking: understandably, candy-flavored herbal cigarettes can serve as a gateway drug to the real thing.

We investigate after the jump. 

Ok, Gleeks: we need to clear something up about last night's episode(everyone else may want to jump ahead a few paragraphs). The most preposterous thing in last night's episode of Glee,  Fox's new hit musidey (comical? song-and-dancedy?) was not the football team dancing to "Single Ladies" during the big game. It was not Sandy Ryerson's shortie kimono. No, it was sweet, hot, dumb jock Finn believing  that he got his girlfriend pregnant by kissing in a hot tub.

They didn't even take their swimsuits off! Finn sputters, though in fairness there was some  premature ejaculation.  No matter, cheerleader Quinn shrugs. "A hot tub is the perfect temperature for sperm," she says. "It helps them swim faster."

Of course, it's later shown that president of the chastity club Quinn got a little action on the side and was just trying to protect her rep and her relationship. It's true that Finn—who also learned this episode that libraries let you borrow books—probably slept through biology. But his misconception is not all that uncommon. After the show, teachers posting on online chat boards wrote that their students often had similar questions, and the internet is full of real-life Finns, trying to get the facts straight. 

Kim Clijsters made short work of opponent Caroline Wozniacki to take the U.S. Open women's singles title tonight. But a victory for Clijsters─who returned to tennis with low expectations after she took a two-year break to have a baby─will not be what most people remember about this Open. Instead, they'll be talking about Serena Williams's tirade against a line judge: an outburst that cost Williams the match and, later, a $10,000 fine.

Clijsters and Williams had been competing in the semifinals earlier in the day.  After a line judge awarded Clijsters a crucial point, saying Williams had foot-faulted on her serve,  Williams pointed at the judge, sad she'd shove the tennis ball down the judge's throat, and later tried to reassure the match referee and other officials that she never threatened the judge's life. The judge awarded Clijsters an additional point based on Williams's unsportsmanlike conduct, which cost Williams the match. (To her credit, Williams walked over to Clijsters without reservation, shook her hand, and wished her well.)

While Williams supporters point out that tantrums in tennis are nothing new, it appears that Williams is the first to threaten a judge, rather than just impugn her skills and spout profanities in her general direction.  It's probably safe to say that although Williams was not actually going to stuff a tennis ball down the line judge's throat, it did appear to cross a line. Previous tantrums have been just that: puffed chests and bickering, with a few tossed rackets and broadcast-unfriendly words thrown in, but no implied violence (except to the water glasses in the way of John McEnroe's forehand).

See for yourself: we collected video of some recent─and classic─tennis freakouts.

I don't watch HBO's soapy vampire drama True Blood. I like the idea of the show and always thought I would get around to checking it out, but so far—despite the frequent convincing arguments made by my colleague Joan Raymond—I have yet to do so. Still, I think I get the conceit: vampires are real, they walk among us, and thanks to an artificial blood substitute called Tru Blood, they can feed without having to bite human's necks to do so. But some humans still think that vampires are monsters and shouldn't have equal rights, and the oppression of and intolerance toward vampires can be seen as an allegory about homosexuality, except that some of the vampires are kind of monsters, and also total sluts.

(I fact-checked this with NEWSWEEK TV critic and True Blood agnostic Joshua Alston, who affirmed my summary and also noted that on the show, "vampire blood is used as a drug by humans, much like straight people get high on gay people's blood." Ball, Alston tells me, has made clear that it's not completely allegorical.)

Yesterday, HBO unveiled Tru Blood, the beverage, a blood-orange (get it?) soft drink packaged to look like the blood substitute quaffed by vampires on the show. I've had a sample of it on my desk for about a week, but couldn't bring myself to drink it. It's supposed to be blood, which is not all that appetizing to me. Even fake blood: once, on a dare, I drank the fake corn-syrup blood at a haunted house, a super-thick, obnoxiously sweet concoction, the taste of which haunts me to this day.

Unfortunately, Tru Blood is also pretty sweet, though its flavor comes from cane sugar, not corn syrup. I was hoping it would be more like a delightful Italian soda: heavy on fizz with traces of blood-orange tartness. In actuality, it's kind of like a mix between Orange Crush and Hi-C, another concoction of my youth, this one made possible by the serve-yourself fountain sodas at various fast-food restaurants. Which is to say, if you are a fan of sugary sodas and vampires on cable, you'll be thrilled with Tru Blood, the soft drink.

If you're not a fan of the show, or have a more sophisticated palate, you'll probably be disappointed, as I was. Also disappointing: after drinking about half of the 14-ounce bottle, I am not even a little bit high. 

Tru Blood beverage retails for $16 per four pack at TruBeverage.com.

The new cast of Dancing With the Stars was announced today, and more than half of the female contestants are women who have had public weight gains or losses in their career.

Kathy Ireland published a book this year detailing her struggle with weight loss, and told People that while she has no plans to don a bikini for the cameras any time soon, she does want to "be healthy, to be there for [her] husband and [her] kids. Melissa Joan Hart did pose in a bikini on the cover of People after having her last baby, while Debi Mazar was named one of Us Weekly's "Weight-Loss Winners" for dropping an estimate 80 pregnancy pounds (and transforming her curvy body into a much more linear form). Meanwhile, when Kelly Osbourne signed on to star in Chicago, the change in her body shape and size was widely noted. It's not the first time Osbourne's body has been a topic of public conversation. The media has been making comments about her weight since her earliest days on The Osbournes, and Osbourne has lost and gained the weight a few times over—while noting that so much public speculation about her size fueled her drug habit. Even some online chatter has accused R&B singer Mya of putting on too much weight recently (Google if you wish; nothing substantial enough for a link).

Are the Dancing With the Stars producers trying to play up the weight-loss benefits of being on the show, à la Dance Your Ass Off?

Given the state of women in Hollywood, where all weight gain is noticed and any weight loss is applauded, it's entirely possible that this is just a coincidence, and that any cast of six to eight female celebrities will inevitably feature women with bodies that have been extensively discussed in tabloids. And as sad as that fact is, I hope it's the case here. Otherwise, imagine the totally dull possibilities: will the show spend airtime discussing what a good calorie burner dancing can be? Will we waste even more times discussing the struggles each woman has with her weight, and how dancing gives them willpower and discipline to make healthy choices? Will we spend endless minutes talking about how great it feels to be able to wear such skimpy costumes—but how insecure someone still feels about being lifted by her partner? Let's hope not. The filler:dance ratio is already too high, and the best part about Dancing With The Stars is seeing what those bodies can do, not how they look. Given the number of injuries that struck contestants last year, there's no need to encourage dancers to go beyond the extreme demands placed on them in the name of a better body.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Macy Gray—who created her own plus-size fashion line and has very little body shame—will focus on the moves, not her metabolism. (Here's also hoping Ms. Gray finds a way to translate her over-the-top style into some crazy, fun dance outfits.) Women of all sizes can move—remember Laila Ali?—and it's possible to enjoy dancing, get a good workout, and not obsess on any perceived body benefits.

In 1997, when the FDA allowed prescription drug manufacturers to actuallytell people what their pills and potions did via television ads, did theyforesee the consequences? Did they anticipate the flowering of an entirely newgenre of short-form drama that would grace the airways every night throughout America,bringing tales of tragedy and heroism and wonderful pills into our livingrooms?  
Prescription drug ads are like sonnets: the artistry is constrained by therules of the form. In this case, the form demands that the stories play outquickly enough that viewers at home don't change the channel, and that a bevyof terrifying side effects be explained in a manner both informative andreassuring. And, just as you may have found the Cliff Notes helpful as youworked your way through Shakespeare's poetry in high school, so too you mightlike to have the nuances of these drug ads explicated for you. On behalf of TheHuman Condition, Josh Fruhlinger is here to help. We begin with this adfor EpiDuo.

But what does it all mean? Find out, after the jump!

Just as I suspected, my time on The Takeawaythis morning discussing the impact of reality TV on teenagers had mesounding very much like an old-fashioned school marm. There I wastalking about values and judgment and parental supervision, while17-year old Grace stole the show with her concise analysis of thecurrent reality lineup.

Initially, I thought the issue wasmore about what kind of bad behavior kids could learn from reality TV.Teenage brains aren’t fully developed, meaning they’re not as able tomake sound decisions as (some) adults. They’re also in a process offiguring out who they are and what they like—a process that can beinfluenced by what they watch, what they listen to, and what they seetheir friends doing. Would seeing good looking, well-edited, casual-sexhaving, AMEX-toting, underage drinking teens on TV ruin the moralcompass of “normal” kids?

As host John Hockenberry pointedout, however, kids aren’t stupid. They know that these shows arestaged, that the producers intervene, and that situations are plannedahead of time for maximum conflict. Superstar Grace wished that showswere a bit more real, rather than trying to cram an entire week’s worthof experiences into 22-minute chunks.

So the issue is not whether watching self-absorbed teens on TV will turn your kids into similarly miserable humans.

What is the issue? Find out after the jump. 

by Raina Kelley

Do you remember being 16? If you were anything like me, you responded to the admonitions of your elders with eye-rolling, loud sighing and deep suspicion--if not an outright refusal to believe anything a grownup said that didn’t directly correlate with your own core beliefs. I grew up in the age of “Just Say No” and laughed at the idea that any adult, even a first lady or Mr. T, could understand adolescent behavior better than I. That’s why parents should approach 16 and Pregnant, MTV's newest documentary series, with great trepidation.

That's because 16 and Pregnant, which airs tonight at 9 p.m., is a bleakly realistic look at six girls trying to navigate pregnancy, babies and high school. Unadorned by the cutesy graphics and “expert” witnesses of other “ripped from the headlines” reality shows, 16 and Pregnant does not glamorize these girls lives or choices in any way. Watching the dreams of starry-eyed adolescents come crashing down is usually the stuff of Disney. But in 16 and Pregnant, there are no happy endings.

In an ideal world, this series would be a cautionary tale for any teenager tempted by the idea of unprotected sex. But in the real world, adolescents are usually repelled by teachable moments. And so I fear that this show, which really deserves all the awards it's sure to receive, may end up missing completely the very audience it needs to reach.

So parents, beware. Don't DVR this show and expect to sit down with your kids for some “very important family time.” That won’t work. It just embarrasses teenagers, making them physically incapable of paying any attention. Instead, plan a stealth attack. Change the channel abruptly when they enter the room, then excuse yourself. When they press “last channel” (and they always do), they will not be able to avoid being riveted by this show. Better yet, tell them not to bother watching at all: 16 and Pregnant will then become irresistible.

Just don’t say it’s important or thoughtful or smart or required (even though it is and should be). That’ll be the kiss of death, trust me.

(Are you a teenager? Then don't you dare watch these excerpts from 16 and Pregnant. We are warning you. Step away right now. You'll be in big trouble, missy.)