If you had a split screen, you could have watched the 2016 DNC convention in Philadelphia and one of the Communist gatherings that used to take place in Madison Square Garden in the 1930s and, clothing aside, you would have had a hard time figuring which was which.

If you tuned in the first night, you’d have seen more flags than they have at the U.N. What you wouldn’t have spotted was the Stars and Stripes. The reason, I suspect, was because the only ones on hand were being burned outside the arena.

Speaking of which, you’re probably aware that the very folks who object so strenuously to our having a wall at the southern border used a double fence to keep the demonstrators at bay. What you may not have known was that under the orders of the DNC, the Philadelphia police inside the arena weren’t allowed to wear their uniforms.

During the four days of the DNC convention, we saw a number of carefully scripted performances. It was like going to a multiplex and sitting through all 20 movies. You would see some action flicks, some romances, some fantasies and some animated with cartoon figures.

In the end, you would have sat through 35 or 40 hours of real-life anti-gun zealots pretending to be gun-toting cowboys and soldiers; real-life abortion activists pretending to be doting fathers and mothers; and some actor who has bedded 50 women in the past month, proclaiming his eternal devotion to some married actress, who has committed adultery with her last dozen leading men.

If you stuck around to the end, you might have even seen a black actress, who, in her 40s, said she had never been proud of America until her husband had been nominated to be president, declaring her undying love of our country.

But for sheer hypocrisy, you couldn’t beat Bill Clinton’s referring to his wife as “the best darn change-maker I ever met in my life.” For one thing, between now and Election Day, the Clintons better decide if her promise to double-down on Obama’s policies or Bill’s promise of a change-maker in the White House is going to be inscribed on her calling card. What’s more, there has never been a case on record where anyone paying Bill’s wife $250,000 for a speech or delivering a multi-million-dollar bribe to the Clinton Foundation has received even a nickel in change.

Say what you will about the Democrats, they are members of an actual political party. When they cast their votes in November, they have an actual chance of electing a president. What I don’t get are people who register as Libertarians and then squander their votes on a ticket consisting of Gary Johnson and William Weld.

I have nothing against either man, each of whom was a two-term Republican governor. If they had entered the GOP primaries, I might have even voted for one of them. But why they would wish to enter a race when their sole function would be to act as spoilers and help ease Hillary Clinton’s way back into the White House confounds me.

Apparently, Democrats are happy to accept any lie so long as it’s one they enjoy hearing. In that way and so many others, they remind me of babies who love to have the same story read to them time and again. Take the fact that when Hillary delivers a speech, lashing out at income inequality, while wearing a $12,000 jacket or a $10,000 pant suit, along with several thousand dollars in jewelry, nobody in the audience or the media points out that not only isn’t the empress naked, but that she’s wearing more than many people earn in a year.

Furthermore, when raking so-called “white privilege” over the coals, how is it that none of her supporters question how it was that Chelsea Clinton, fresh out of college and with zilch on her resume, stepped into a network job paying roughly $400,000-a-year?

In case it comes as news, there is also something called “black privilege,” an example of which was the $350,000 salary Michelle Obama began receiving from a Chicago hospital system as soon as Barack was elected to the Illinois legislature.

In case you’re one of those people who still question which candidate to support in November, a federal appeals court just sent you a wake-up message by overturning a North Carolina law requiring a photo ID in order to vote. The left-wing court, doing the bidding of the DNC and the ACLU, declared that it was discriminatory against blacks without explaining in what way. After all, no black in America has ever suggested that lack of a photo ID has prevented him from boarding an airliner, buying a six-pack of Budweiser, driving a car or entering a venue in which Barack Obama, Joe Biden or Michelle Obama, was speaking. So, how is it that it’s only a hardship when it comes to voting, which is something far more important than any of these other activities?

I’m reminded of something that’s been gnawing at me for some time. The source of much of the malaise in America can be traced to two groups. The first is urban blacks, the other is Muslims.

In the case of blacks, millions of them seem to be totally alienated from American life. They view the world around them through a prism of resentment. Instead of taking responsibility for their own lives, they prefer to blame white cops and white society for their own failings — failing to get an education, failing to get a job, failing to get married, failing to raise their children. The one thing that seems to energize them is when, as the inevitable result of all these various failings, some young black thug, is shot during the commission of a crime.

With American Muslims, their complaint is that they sometimes get tarred with a big brush because they often seem so sympathetic to the goals of jihadists, so unwilling to speak out against the savagery committed in the name of Allah, so unwilling to subordinate Sharia law to the Constitution.

What the two groups appear to share is tribalism, something that is anathema to everything that America offers, summed up by the spirit of e pluribus unum, which translates to “out of many, one.” For far too long, we have gone along with the gag that we can be German-Americans, Irish-Americans, Polish-Americans, Mexican-Americans, etc. As I see it, we can all eat whatever we damn like and observe old country customs to our heart’s content, but it really is past time to dump those damn hyphens.

For those of you who are still sitting on the presidential fence, a good friend of mine has come up with a nifty line that draws a clear distinction between the two candidates: When Trump makes a mistake, it costs people money. When Hillary Clinton makes them, people die.