There is no longer a good reason why all those 20-somethings should be lying around in their parents’ basements just because they majored in Black, Hispanic or Transgender Studies, and graduated with a degree in vandalism.

It so happens there are plenty of jobs just waiting for them. All they have to do is type in political activism, and they will emerge in a left-wing wonderland where if you’re willing to organize on behalf of the ACLU, People for the American Way, SAG-AFTRA, the Southern Poverty Law Center, Ben & Jerry’s political arm or just show up and make trouble at a Trump event, that lazy couch potato can roll off the couch and earn from $1,600-$2,400 a month. And if you display the sort of initiative that George Soros really admires, say by bringing a club or a baseball bat to the party, I’m sure the sky’s the limit.

What’s more, it’s highly unlikely that you will wind up with a rap sheet, because mayors are insisting that the cops turn a blind eye to all sorts of mischief involving statues and monuments. It’s true that a few rabble-rousers in Boston were arrested recently, but even that wasn’t for toppling longstanding statues but for breaking longstanding statutes.

To me, one of the oddities of declaring war on statues is that it has branched out from targeting Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee and other Confederate generals to including the likes of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Christopher Columbus.

I’m frankly surprised that Abe Lincoln has been spared. After all, if he hadn’t decided to deny the South the right to secede from the Union, there wouldn’t have been a Civil War that left 700,000 dead and no need to have all those Confederate generals in the first place.

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One can judge how corrupt the media has become when you realize that both Reuters and The Washington Post described the masked and armed anti-Trump mob in Phoenix as “peace activists.”

I suppose you could describe them that way if you’re the sort of moral cretin who’d describe the members of ISIS, Al Qaeda, Hamas, Hezbollah and the Taliban as freedom fighters.

As a rule, though, when I see Americans in the streets wearing gas masks, carrying clubs and throwing rocks and bottles at the cops, I assume they’re fascist thugs who belong in jail.

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In the always tough competition for being named Hypocrite of the Year, I think that even with four months remaining in 2017, we have a winner. In her book, “What Happened,” which I believe should end with a question mark, Hillary Clinton reports that during the second presidential debate, when Donald Trump approached her on stage, she felt she was not only in the presence of evil but that she felt her skin crawling. And, why wouldn’t she? After all, she regarded him as a creep, a serial groper of women, and here he was, absolutely looming over her like a gargoyle.

The problem is that for millions of us, it sounded less like a 69-year-old writing a book about a political campaign and more like a page out of Hillary Rodham’s diary after her first date with Bill Clinton.

With Mrs. Clinton, the laughs never stop. Consider that when she was asked how it was that she was named Hillary, she mentioned that she was named after Sir Edmund Hillary, who was knighted for his conquest of Mt. Everest. The problem is that she was born in 1948, and Sir Edmund didn’t climb the world’s tallest mountain until 1953.

Frankly, I think we are long past having to select a Hypocrite of the Year on an annual basis. It’s time to either end the competition or at least commission a trophy to be bestowed in the future and call it the Hillary.

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That’s not to suggest that we don’t have a lot of competitors when it comes to battling it out for second place. Consider if you will how many celebrities vowed in 2016 to move to some other country if we yahoos went ahead and elected Donald Trump. I’m only guessing, but it wouldn’t surprise me if those promises didn’t help push Trump over the top in Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio and Pennsylvania.

I mean, if I’d been one of those people sitting on the fence last November, I would certainly have cast my lot with Trump if I thought it would mean that Barbra Streisand, Bryan Cranston, Miley Cyrus, Lena Dunham, Amy Schumer, Jon Stewart, George Lopez, Ne-Yo, Cher, Keegan-Michael Key, Chelsea Handler, Samuel Jackson, Whoopi Goldberg, Neve Campbell and Al Sharpton would all be packing their bags. Unfortunately, they no longer seem to hear the siren call of Canada, Mexico, Sweden and South Africa.

Okay, I admit I never heard of Ne-Yo and Keegan-Michael Key, either, but they promised to leave, and they and their darn hyphens are still hanging around.

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Because they are starting to collect and present a fire hazard, I’m going to share a few quotes and a couple of jokes.

Charles Mackay: “Men, it has been said, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, while they only recover their senses slowly, one by one.”

Isaac Newton: “I can calculate the movement of stars, but not the madness of men.”

Jim Rogers: “It’s a basic fact of life that many things that ‘Everybody knows’ turn out to be wrong.”

John Templeton: “The four most expensive words in the English language are ‘This time it’s different.’”

The jokes have both been supplied by Jan Hooper, who must keep the folks in San Mateo, CA, constantly giggling.

Joke #1: A very wealthy husband and wife were dining at an expensive restaurant when a stunning young woman approaches their table, kisses the husband, tells him she’ll be waiting for him at her apartment, and strolls away.

The wife glares at her husband and demands an explanation.

“She’s my mistress.”

“Well, that’s the last straw. I demand a divorce.”

“I can understand how you feel. But keep in mind that if we get a divorce, it will mean no more shopping trips to Paris, no more wintering in Barbados, no more summers in Tuscany, no more BMWs and no more gold birthday gifts from Tiffany’s. But the decision is yours.”

At that moment, a mutual friend of theirs enters the restaurant with a super model on his arm.

“Who’s that woman with Jacob?” the wife asks.

“That’s his mistress.”

“Ours is prettier.”

Joke #2: I talked to a homeless man this morning and asked him how he had ended up on the street.

He said, “Up until last week, I had it all. I had plenty to eat, my clothes were always washed and pressed. I had a roof over my head. I had HDTV and Internet. I had a gym, a pool and a library. I was working on my MBA online. I had no bills and no debt. I even had full medical coverage.”

“My God, what happened? Drugs? Booze? Bad investments?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. I was paroled.”