"Some guilty pleasures aren't your fault. Without sounding overly lefty-paranoid, the corporate mass media does everything it can to plant some songs deep in your skull, where your devoid-of-taste subconscious is powerless against catchiness in any form. This is why you'll hum along with Nelly's "Air Force Ones," no matter how silly you think it is for grown men to sing about shoe shopping. Even if you're repulsed by the song, some part of your subconscious (Freud called it the "death drive") can get your brain pumping "The Macarena" like your own personal shitty jukebox. (Speaking of corporate evil and "The Macarena," Michelina's using that damn song in its ads may rank as one of the most cynical campaigns of all time, because no one on earth likes the fucking "Macarena" -- the tune is analogous to those ear slugs in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan).
"Guilty pleasures can also come from your early childhood, back when your puddinglike brain wasn't developed enough to know that you were listening to crap ("Mama, play 'Knock Three Times' again"). It's a mystery of the human condition why so many of our adult preferences were formed at the age when we liked to eat paste (although it does help explain Creed)."
Where guilty pleasures might be first imprinted, or why you're happy for a plastic sack at the record store.