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October 12, 2007

Among life’s shameful pleasures — they are several steps down from guilty pleasures — is the joy of watching self-infatuated singers performing really badly. If you think of yourself as a decent person, you must feel a bit, well, tainted by the glee you have derived from Britney Spears’s sleepwalking act on the MTV Music Awards or the opening rounds of “American Idol.”

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