It was a clean hit—no flags were thrown, no fines were levied. And it was, I must admit, a clever turn for what at first appeared to be a slick-but-standard advertising spot. The Super Bowl was full of ads featuring screaming chickens and talking babies and underwear-clad men, but only one featured a son taking down his mom (in an extremely respectful and affectionate way, of course).

The Tebow/Focus on the Family spot proved to be controversially uncontroversial. On the way in to work today, I heard one media watcher criticize the ad because he didn't know what it was even about: The pro-life ad was about as polarizing as a room full of puppies.

For myself, I really liked it: It was light, professional and sincere—and it played even better than I hoped it would, quite frankly.

But then that's what you'd expect me to say, wouldn't you? After all, Focus on the Family is, literally, paying me to write this blog. While we here at Plugged In are all about dispensing fair critiques, perhaps my opinion is not completely reliable when it comes to our material.

So … what did you think? Did the Focus/Tebow spot score? Or fumble?

And while you're at it, tell me what you thought of the other Super Bowl ads, too. What was your favorite? Did anything shock and appall you? I personally didn't think the ads were quite as funny as they had been in years' past, but some were pretty effective. This morning I have a sudden urge to eat at Denny's and wander down to the vending machine for a Snickers.

As some of you may have heard, Focus on the Family (Plugged In's parent organization) will be airing a commercial during the Big Game this weekend. The ad—featuring former Florida Gators quarterback Tim Tebow and his mom—has become a pretty big deal around here—so much so that execs have taken to wearing shoulder pads and doing chest bumps in the hall. Morning devotionals are sounding more and more like play calls ("Isaiah 26:12 … hike!"). And I'm expecting Dippin' Dots vendors to show up sometime today.

But if the Super Bowl ad has triggered a certain eccentricity on the Focus campus, it's made some folks positively apoplectic outside it.

I've not seen the ad. My boss has not seen the ad. My boss's boss has not seen the ad. Very few of us inside the building have seen it, much less outside our pleasant, cubicle-lined confines. Nevertheless, several groups have asked CBS to yank the thing.

"By offering one of the most coveted advertising spots of the year to an anti-equality, anti-choice, homophobic organization, CBS is aligning itself with a political stance that will damage its reputation, alienate viewers, and discourage consumers from supporting its shows and advertisers," read, in part, a letter to the network signed by a number of women's groups.

Sports columnist Gregg Doyel, who writes for cbssports.com, took a different tack: "If you're a sports fan, and I am, that's the holiest day of the year. It's not a day to discuss abortion."

The ironies, of course, abound. I mean, we're talking about a sporting event that features advertisements devoted to beer, scantily clad women and folks getting thwacked in the crotch.

"Objectionable, after all, is in the eye of the beholder," wrote James Poniewozik, television columnist for Time magazine. "It seems ridiculous to start saying that espousing religion … is objectionable in an ad environment of alcohol-pushing animals, slapstick violence and Danica Patrick's cleavage."

For a while, news-related searches for Focus' ad dominated Google. And maybe that's not too surprising since our media culture loves a good row. But my guess is that when folks actually see the ad their reaction will be along the lines of, "Wow. And groups were up in arms over this? An ad celebrating families?"

When I was a religion reporter at a Colorado newspaper, I covered Focus on the Family quite a bit. And I learned pretty quickly that some people love the organization and some people—well, don't.

Now, frankly, I can understand why some folks might disagree with elements of what Focus does: We don't shy away from wading through controversial waters when conviction calls and Scripture specifies. That's part of what the leaders here feel called to do. But back in the day, one of my sources told me something that feels pretty appropriate right about now:

"Focus is about as controversial as flossing your teeth."

And really, when it comes right down to it, that's how Focus perceives itself: a dispensary of oral hygiene tools—which might hurt a little at the time, but are designed to help and heal, not harm.

Now, you may not have heard of either of these two people. Or, if you have, you may be at a loss as to how they fit together. But bear with me for a few moments and I'll elucidate.

Let's start with Frank, the last living veteran of World War I. This aged "doughboy" just turned 109. As a soldier in the U.S. Army, Buckles was an ambulance driver for American forces in Europe, and he once met commanding Gen. John Pershing. The seasoned gent offered some thoughts on how he has managed to reach his second century: "The important thing is the desire to live, and a purpose for living," he told CNN.

Ke$ha, on the other hand, is all of 22. She's the latest party-till-you-drop chanteuse who made it big not too long after dropping out of high school. Of course, her life experience has taught her a thing or two. She's feeling a little sheepish about bumping Susan. "I feel like a jerk," Ke$ha admitted to the New York Post. "They act like I beat her up. She's sweet. I'd kiss her. Hasn't she never kissed anybody before?"

When asked about his long life, Frank told the Knoxville News that, "Longevity has never bothered me at all, I have studied longevity for years."

When Rolling Stone asked about her life, Ke$ha said, "Society has taught us to suppress certain things, but if I want to do something, I let the animal inside take over, no matter how uninhibited or irreverent it is. Who cares? Crazy people are what keeps life interesting."

"If your country needs you, you should be right there," Frank told the News about service and patriotism. "That is the way I felt when I was young, and that's the way I feel today."

"I think people can stand to take themselves just a little less seriously," Ke$ha said to Billboard magazine about her own battles. "I'm fighting the war against pretension."

"I had many different assignments and I was doing things that I thought were important … no, I didn't either: I didn't think they were important. But I found out afterwards when I read up on my history that some of the things that I did were quite important," Frank told Tampa Bay Online.

"If you come to a live show, it's a sensory assault. You will leave covered in sweat, beer, glitter, and, just maybe, you'll get a special edition Ke$ha condom. If it breaks, you have to name your daughter or son after me," Ke$ha recently told Billboard.

Anyway, I just thought you might like to hear from two people in today's cultural news—two distinct voices that ought to be heard, for one reason or another.

Oh, and Frank told The New York Times one other thing about the secret to a long life: "When you start to die … don't."

Just "don't." Well, Mr. Buckles, it seems to me that in a number of life's situations, your admonition is pretty wise. I wonder what Ke$ha would say?

We've read stories on how celebrities influence us. We've read stories on how we're growing more obsessed with how we look. We've even read stories on how celebrities affect that obsession. But I've never read a story quite like this.

There's a woman in China (London's Daily Mail just calls her Xiaoqing) who desperately wants to reunite with her boyfriend. No news there, right? What's she doing ... sending him flowers? Texting him sweet messages?

Of course not. No, Xiaoqing plans to undergo a bevy of plastic surgery procedures so she can look exactly like Jessica Alba.

Seems her boyfriend has a thing for the Fantastic Four starlet, and he loved it when Xiaoqing would make herself look as much like Alba as she could. The boyfriend even bought Xiaoqing a blond wig to wear. But eventually, Xiaoqing decided she'd rather look more like herself, so she dumped the wig. And he dumped her.

Now Xiaoqing wants him back, and she's willing to undergo a slew of cosmetic surgical procedures to make herself into her beau's dream girl. Doctors say it's possible for her to get the look she wants, though not necessarily advisable. All those cosmetic cuts and incisions and stitches? It can be dangerous and it'll be certainly irreversible, they tell her.

No matter, Xiaoqing says.

"I'm not only doing it for my ex-boyfriend but for myself," she tells the Mail. "I am a psychologically weak person. I want to do something to challenge myself and build a strong personality through it."

Is there, perhaps, a tinge of irony here that she's going about this psychological overhaul by becoming someone else? And someone who played The Invisible Woman, at that?

Avatar

So, with all that money floating around (so to speak), lots of folks are trying to capitalize on Avatar's success—and that includes the government of China.

In an effort to pull in some fresh tourist coin, folks in the Zhangiajie province of China have renamed a picturesque pillar of rock "Avatar Hallelujah Mountain." The striking geological feature, which had previously been called "Southern Sky Column," is reported to have been an inspiration for Avatar's magnificent floating chunks of rock (though, it should be noted, the Chinese version is rooted firmly to the ground).

"Pandora is far but Zhangjiajie is near," the province's official website proclaims. According to Reuters, tourists can sign up for a "Magical Tour to Avatar-Pandora."

Some may be surprised that China would scrap a perfectly good name simply to capitalize on a successful film. But really, we're all about making a buck these days, and I think it's a trend that might catch on.

Perhaps vast swaths of barren New Mexico, where The Book of Eli was filmed, could be renamed "Eli's Post Apocalyptic Plains." Maybe the owners of the Baltimore Ravens could rename the team "The Blind Siders" and slap a picture of Sandra Bullock on the team helmet. Maybe all of London could redub itself "Sherlock Holmesville"—at least until the next big movie to feature the city comes along ("Wolfmanburg?"). The possibilities are endless.

Personally, I can't wait to go to Home Depot and buy me a specially marketed, retractable "Extraordinary Measurer."

I never thought I'd say this, but thank goodness for

But with that in mind, what movie should we talk about today? Legion earned $18.2 million—enough to push it past the still strong The Book of Eli for second place—but anyone who's seen Legion is likely in counseling (trying to expunge the memory, you know). The Tooth Fairy, the latest kiddie fare from Dwayne Johnson, made a respectable $14.5 million to pull itself to fourth place (Pull? Get it?). But once you get past the film's messages of family, perseverance and good oral hygiene, is there anything left to talk about?

Extraordinary Measures made just $7 million at the gate for a seventh-place finish—not strong enough to give me an excuse to ramble about how I interviewed Brendan Fraser, and how we chatted for 15 minutes, and how you can read the interview at Plugged In in a few days, and how he invited to me to lunch afterward (OK, I made that last part up. See what Legion has done to my brain?)

It'd be great to talk more about To Save A Life, which came in 15th with $1.5 million. But we talked about it quite a bit on Friday, and I'm not sure whether $1.5 million is enough to get really excited over or not. The good news is that the film likely made its money back in one weekend—nothing to sneeze at, for sure. But it's a far cry from the success of Fireproof thus far, and it's probably not enough to make the film industry stand up and take notice. But maybe it'll retain its momentum over the coming weeks: This film deserves to be seen.

So let's just make this Monday a frenetic, film free-for-all. What did you see this weekend? And are you glad you did?

I mean, I understand the allure. Wouldn't we all be tempted to lose a few wrinkles and look less like that before model for an ex-lax ad. But things are getting ridiculous. Take MTV's The Hills star Heidi Montag, for example. Now, here's a young girl who became famous as a teen for pretty much nothing more than being a sun-kissed California beauty—as you can see from the far-left pic from the Jan. 25 edition of People.

Well, this 23-year-old recently went in for a major plastic surgery overhaul that included:

• Mini brow lift

• Botox shots

• Nose job

• Fat injections in lips

• Chin reduction

• Neck liposuction

• Ears pinned back

• Breast augmentation (Her second)

• Liposuction buttock augmentation

And yes, the girl to the right of that young Heidi Montag is the "new and improved" celebrity.

"No one is ever perfect," Montag told People. "But I am obsessed with plastic surgery and with maintaining my looks."

We can, and usually do, point a finger of blame at Hollywood, but in reality it's not solely the entertainment industry's fault. (Hollywood's elite just happen to be the ones with enough money to have full body slice and dice fests and then unveil the results on E!.) They may inspire the masses with their prefab pulchritude, but it's we the people who are sporting a changing mindset in this area. And sadly, our youngest are the ones to be swayed the most.

According to Britain's goodsurgeonguide.co.uk, 41% of girls ages 13-16 want some sort of cosmetic surgery. The American Society of Plastic surgeons reported that in 2008 over 228,000 13- to 18-year-olds went under the knife for surgical beautification. And the results can be deadly. Not long ago, a story came out about a high school cheerleader whose life was cut short on the operating table during a breast augmentation.

Now, I'm not trying to scream scary warnings of young people dying during plastic surgery (even though Ms. Montag spoke of a near-death scare during her post-surgery recovery). What I am saying is that there's definitely something—be it our perspective on life and happiness or our mental and emotional health—that's being hurt with this new craving for an impossibly elusive perfection.

Social networking can enhance our regular face-to-face friendships and provide a way to stay in contact with friends who live overseas or out of state.

Facebook's fun because friendship is fun—and research even shows we're healthiest and most fulfilled when we feel connected to others.

Still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't also wonder about Facebook's potential … hitches.

In the brave new virtual world of clever status updates, wall posts and the chain-letter phenomenon "25 Things About Me," some wonder whether we are really fostering a community, or merely garnering an audience. And in this age when the very definition of friendship is blurred by the Internet (Is a high school classmate I barely knew 20 years ago really my friend?), community looks much different than it did even five years ago.

Jesse Rice has a few thoughts on all of this. In his book The Church of Facebook, Rice presents the pros of our social networking age, but also discusses how virtual friendships look almost exactly like physical friendships—with significant and potentially menacing differences. For one, deep friendship develops with shared face-to-face moments and enough privacy to discuss serious issues. The very public world of Facebook can be an environment of grandstanding and profile management. He goes on to say:

But what do you think? Is Facebook an ego boost, a healthy outlet to laugh at friends' goings-on, or a "place" to foster actual real-life groups of friends who will love and hold one another accountable? Or, in this complex virtual age, is it all of the above? And how has it changed the way we view community?