If I were dumb enough to believe that liberalism made the slightest bit of sense, I would vote for Bernie Sanders. For one thing, he has never used a private server so as not to leave a trail of poisoned bread crumbs. He has never told his daughter the truth about the massacre in Benghazi while lying to the American people and to the parents of those four brave souls who lost their lives while serving their nation. Bernie Sanders never berated a congressional committee seeking answers to legitimate questions by saying something as odious as “What difference, at this point, does it make who murdered four Americans?”

What’s more, Bernie Sanders admits to being a socialist, whereas Mrs. Clinton, who has consistently campaigned to the left of the senator, coyly insists she is a progressive Democrat, while neglecting to explain the difference.

And, finally, after spending decades trashing the women that her husband has goosed, groped and raped, she has the gall to cast herself as the defender of women, as if women in the freest society on earth require defending by an aging shrew who has never in nearly 70 years done a single thing to improve the lives of any woman aside from herself and, perhaps, her main squeeze, Huma Abedin.

Although I am not yet supporting Donald Trump, I would pay good money to watch him debate Mrs. Clinton, who has had the gall to refer to him as a sexist, when she, herself, has her philandering husband campaigning on her behalf. The fact is that Slick Willy, who has the greed of Midas and the morals of a libertine, would have sold his granny into white slavery if he could have found a buyer.

Even if I agreed with Democrats on any of the important issues, which I don’t, I would find it impossible to vote for them because their foolish and totally illogical agenda requires them to spout obvious falsehoods. For instance, in the wake of the shooting in Philadelphia where a black thug ambushed a white police officer, firing three slugs into him in the name of ISIS, we had to listen to Mayor Jim Kenney insist that the shooting had nothing to do with Islam and Muslims.

It was an embarrassing, but amusing, spectacle. But when his president has carefully refrained from connecting any of the terrorist attacks that have occurred at Fort Hood, Boston, France, Germany, Belgium, New York or San Bernardino, to Islam, what is a poor mayor to do, but follow Obama’s lead?

So far as liberals and their pet monkeys in the media are concerned, Islam is Teflon-coated. No matter how barbaric Muslims behave, it has everything to do with radicalism, nothing to do with a perverted religion that officially recognizes the legitimacy of honor killings; clitorectomies; and the torturing and beheadings of non-Muslims, with particular emphasis on Christians, Jews and homosexuals.

Some people blame the massacre in San Bernardino on the fact that nobody attending the luncheon for city employees was armed except for the Muslim couple, but another liberal conceit was involved. It was political correctness, another term for moral cowardice, which prevented a neighbor lady from alerting the authorities. Although she suspected that something unsavory was taking place in the Farook garage, she didn’t want anyone to think she was a bigot.

Can you imagine in 1943, someone neglecting to alert the cops or the FBI if they had reason to believe that the next door neighbors were Nazi spies or even that they celebrated Hitler’s birthday?

Since Iran first took hostages in 1979, Muslims have been conducting terrorist operations against America and the West, and what do our leaders do in response? They pretend Islam is a religion of peace, which has never been true, and which is now a bigger lie than ever.

Even atheists who have no use for other religions and have only contempt for believers now spring reflexively to the defense of those who slit throats and burn their victims alive.

Recently, I tried to remember when colleges first became contaminated with left-wing theology. I decided it happened almost overnight in the 1960s when college students decided they’d had their fill of panty raids, and in deciding to serve as role models for their ignorant parents by taking on serious matters, declared war on the Vietnam War. By making that their cause du jour, they helped Walter Cronkite and Jane Fonda see to it that we lost and the Communists won. In an ironic twist, they managed to prolong the war because neither Lyndon Johnson nor Richard Nixon was going to have his foreign policy dictated by a bunch of half-baked 20-year-olds who mainly objected not to the war itself, but to a war into which they might be inducted.

Still, it wasn’t until I began to notice that the face of Castro’s good friend and fellow sadist, Che Guevara, was popping up on the t-shirts of my fellow students that I realized that colleges had become nothing more or less than factories whose products happened to be idiots.

The Rolling Stone, which should have been padlocked after running a story about a rape at the University of Virginia that never happened, is still embarrassing itself in public. This time out, they sent over-the-hill hambone Sean Penn south to interview drug dealer/mass murderer Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman.

Penn, who was last in the news when he traveled to Iraq to show his solidarity with Saddam Hussein, clearly has a soft spot in his head for blood-thirsty creeps. He came up with a 50,000 word puff piece in which Guzman got to claim that he only committed murder in self-defense and to blame America for his success (“If there was no market, there would be no sales”).

On top of all that, the Rolling Stone and Penn granted El Chapo the final cut, as they say in Hollywood, the power to read and delete anything he found offensive before publication.

Inasmuch as Tinseltown has seen fit to give Penn, a truly terrible actor, two Oscars, I wouldn’t be surprised if Columbia University, home to folks who are every bit as addle-headed as their colleagues on the west coast, just might give him a Pulitzer Prize for his scoop.

Rabbi Abe Heschel once said: “When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.”

He didn’t say it to me or I would have told him I admire clever people who also happen to be kind. “Why need it be either/or?” I would have said to the rabbi. “I have known clever people who are mean, but I have also known people others might have described as kind, but who were merely boring. While they may never have uttered a cruel word about anyone, even about those like Hillary Clinton or Sean Penn who clearly have it coming, they also never uttered an interesting word.”

I much prefer Lewis Lapham, who must have had people like Ted Turner, Norman Lear, Warren Buffet and George Soros, in mind, when he observed that “A certain kind of rich man afflicted with the symptoms of moral dandyism sooner or later comes to the conclusion that it isn’t enough to merely make money. He feels obliged to hold views, to espouse causes and elect Presidents, and to explain to a trembling world how and why it went wrong.”

A reader wrote, asking me if I was as disgusted as he was by the vulgarities uttered at the Golden Globes. I wrote back to say I never watch the silly thing. One can harrumph about the Oscars, and I often do, but at least the members of the Academy generally work or have worked in the movie industry.

There are only 93 people who vote for the Golden Globes. They call themselves the Foreign Press Corps, but they are really just a ragtag group of stringers for English and European newspapers who are paid so little for their occasional items that, within the industry, they are known as the Moochers because their votes can usually be bought for the price of a couple of drinks and a few canapes.

The reason that such a pathetic show is aired in primetime is because the 15 awards to movies and the 11 to TV allows Hollywood to market its product to a large and eager audience that hungers for celebrity sightings that even a plethora of late night talk shows apparently can’t satisfy.

As far as the Moochers are concerned, the revenue from the broadcast is enough to keep the 93 of them in wine spritzers and pigs-in-a-blanket until next year’s campaigns roll around.