The show that everybody loves to hate to vote but WAIT! — Did Crazy Paula clone herself on a whim, or is that a newbie at the judging table? — premiered last night.

America: Meet Kara DioGuardi, the new addition to the “American Idol” peanut gallery. She’s a one-gal songwriting machine who’s worked with the likes of Pink, The Pussycat Dolls, Xtina, and (oh boy!) Celine Di-on-and-on-and-on-and-on-and-on . . .

The question is: Can she handle the Asian tap dancer with the impossible afro, or the bizarro freak with the emo bangs whose voice sounds more like a post-surgical moan, or Sideshow Frog, or the overzealous chick with the pink cowboy hat and, oh Lord, her damn scrapbook?

DioGuardi seemed to hold up well during last night’s recap of AI’s Phoenix auditions — that is, until a certain Seacrest-smitten bathing suit beauty bounced before her eyes. Then the claws came out.

Now, I can understand the logic behind Katrina Darrell’s bathing suit get-up. This ain’t an opera house. It’s “American Idol,” which generally churns out pop stars, with a little Gaiken on the side. And in the world of pop music, a whole lotta bod can sing! sing! sing! if you know what I mean. The vocals kinda-sorta-actually get in the way of the abs, and come-hither eyes, and legs, and chest, and public displays of undiagnosed personality disorders . . . so if girlfriend got the bod, why not flaunt it?

Simon didn’t seem to mind. Neither did Randy. Paula gave Darrell the OK to go onto Hollywood as well, but DioGuardi took offense. After busting out in song and attempting to upstage the so-called “Bikini Girl,” our new judge proved . . . absolutely nothing. Whose audition was this anyway?

Does the newbie judge not understand that “American Idol” is NOT a friggin’ talent show? Two words: Hello, Sanjaya. Let’s not take ourselves too seriously here.

This is a popularity contest.

And the best damn way to win a popularity contest is to be open. Honest. Approachable. Prove that you got nothing to hide — not even your backside.

So DioGuardi better check herself. If “Bikini Girl” is willing to show a little skin to win, then she ain’t going anywhere for a while.

Tune in tonight for two more hours of “American Ogle.” Roll your eyes. But you know you want to. (Hey, maybe we’ll see Seacrest try to high-five another blind guy this evening. Now that’s what I call television!)