NBC newsman Tim Russert died of a heart attack more than two weeks ago, but that doesn't mean that it's too late for desperate flacks to try piggybacking on the man's death in order to snatch a little media coverage for their most marginal clients. For example, here's a question you've probably been asking yourself since that fateful day: "COULD HOLISTIC MEDICINE HAVE SAVED TIM RUSSERT?" Holistic medicine pioneer and tasteless quack Raphael Kellman, MD says "YES!":

The City of New York has always run anti-smoking ads that are pretty great, in the sense that they're disgusting and make smokers jump up and change channels as quickly as possible. The city's newest campaign features "Marie," a 58 year-old who has smoked for 40 years, even as bits of her body were constantly being amputated because of her poor circulation [NY Sun]. This could backfire, though, because it just makes it easy to say "I'll stop after my first amputation." The ad is below—I particularly admire how they slipped in a picture of a bone saw. Something to think about on my smoke break.

One thing I like about being part of generation X, or generation Y or a millennial, or whatever the fuck we're called now, is that we're superficial and we know it. There's no pretense about caring about what's on the inside. That's why top doctors are going into dermatology and plastic surgery. Doctors want to make a "rewarding salary," just like patients would like "rewarding" breasts. [NYT]

Wired 15.12 comes in at two pounds, half the weight of a September Vogue. Most of it's the water weight of ads and a shopping guide, and I've summarized the meat of the issue in 1,200 words, so now you don't need to pick it up and risk ergonomic injury.

Yesterday, 24/7 online Anna Nicole Smith newswire TMZ.com exclusively revealed that in addition to once partying with America's Princess Di at the WeHo Gay Pride in 2005, Dr. Sandeep Kapoor had apparently prescribed methadone to a Smith alias shortly before she gave birth to the daughter whose paternity would later be claimed by not less than forty-five virile men. Since that story broke, the site has plunged ever deeper into his life by following up with a pair of items on Smith's Dr. Feelnothing, revealing his bizarre fetish for entering sport utility vehicles while draped in blankets and discovering that one of his stated areas of practice is Entertainment Medicine, a discipline whose existence was summarily denied by celebrity-frequented St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica. We expect that the always exhaustively thorough TMZ won't be deterred by this obvious attempt at stonewalling their investigation into the shadowy underworld of the ent-med field, whose secretive, utterly discreet practitioners are always available to perform emergency, overdose-obscuring surgical procedures or help the famous manage the pain of celebrity through pharmacological means.

Observe hunky young Dr. Mark Warfel, ambitious Manhattan plastic surgeon with a secret plan: to perform all kinds of disturbing procedures on your penis, and to be paid well for the pleasure. In the name of enlargement, he's prepared to sever its ligaments, yank it further out of your groin, inject it with fat, and wrap it an am empowering sheath of dead flesh. Not girthy enough? Fear not: