Wasn't there once a sense of duty mixed in with the titillation of watching a presidential debate? Now, it feels like the Jerry Springer Show.

I allowed myself the pornographic pleasure of watching the New Hampshire show yesterday. I sat there looking over my reading glasses, The New York Times in my lap, feeling waves of cheap superiority, easy sniggering at fish in a barrel and self-deluded efforts at maganimity. (Jon Huntsman believes politicians should put country before party! Rick Santorum says he'd still love a son who was gay!)

It was the first Republican debate I'd watched in its entirety, and it'll be the last.

Not because these candidates are unworthy of my attention. Anybody who has a Chinese ambasaddor's chance of becoming president of my country deserves my ear.

I just don't like the way I feel after watching an episode of this particular reality show.

I don't like the way I feel at all.