AS most of us with a pulse know all too well, Charles Barkley rarely says something that isn’t stone stupid unless he has impounded somebody else’s original thought. And TNT couldn’t be prouder presenting its Master of the Oblivious.

Barkley’s witless commentary, staged to shock and awe, elicits such pubescent giggles from the peanut gallery that ESPN felt compelled to counter with more of the same contrived histrionics; the lone exception being the almost-always insightful Greg Anthony who, when egged on by deflated ball Kevin Frazier, occasionally allows Bill Laimbeer insipid input and Stephen A. Smith’s pomposity and preening to drag him down to their sub-basement level.

ESPN’s vacuous coverage is an insult to even Barkley’s senseless abuse of substance. Since churning out content is so inconvenient and such a waste of time, Anthony should be barred from the set and Snuffleupagus should replace Frazier so it’s crystal clear what age group the cable network is trying to attract.

Excuse me for helplessly digressing from Barkley; still, as long as we’re dishonorably mentioning the NBA’s Dunces of Dead Air, I’d be shirking my duty if I didn’t spotlight Byron Scott. Soon after hitting the bricks, the former Nets coach was branded a “must hire” by ABC’s executive producer, Mike Pearl.

It’s amazing how far a great smile and impeccably tailored suits will get you, because Scott has yet to add anything remotely worthwhile to the pregame or halftime creations; you knew more before you tuned in.

My next-to-last year that NBC and the NBA were in cahoots, I thought its comparable shows were so sophomoric I begged Dick Ebersol to rescue me from David Neal’s studio clutches and put me on the road; the only alternative was to quit.

I never thought I’d see the day, but ESPN’s and Pearl’s half-hour and 15-minute Three Card Monty productions are offering the above-cited foolishness stiff competition; though the wired refs’ piece last week was hilarious.

Mike Tirico’s next solid question to his co-hosts will be his first. Tom Tolbert tells us what we’ve already read or written and clues in ordinary fans to what they can see for themselves, usually duplicating what the game guys stated without bothering to pinpoint something that might happen or needs to occur in the second half.

As for Scott, he says nothing when they come to him a couple minutes before the half then repeats it during intermission. Now we know how little, if anything of significance, the Nets were getting in the huddle and the locker room. The only difference between the studio and the arena is that Scott is sitting vs. standing with his arms crossed.

This just in: Jason Kidd vows to get Scott fired from TV.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a news flash for TNT; people whose IQ is above freezing aren’t laughing with its house clown, they’re laughing at him. Of course, Barkley thinks the league’s rule is stupid, the one that penalized Ron Artest one game for leaving the vicinity of the Pacers bench during a confrontation between Jermaine O’Neal and Brandon Hunter.

All rules are ridiculous to Barkley; they’re all beneath him. It’s always been that way and always will be because the star bangers catering to his every whim think his crude orations are charming. It was comparable indulgence, of course, that allowed him to shortchange teammates, employers and himself. Perhaps no elite player squandered more skills due to lack of discipline.

Each to his own, I guess. My policy is, “Once a philosopher, twice a pervert.” Barkley’s manifesto: “Everything in excess.”

Naturally, his lack of self-control (gambling, drugs, drinking, women; you name the titillation, he’ll gladly number it) is talked about with bravado. Barkley gets off on being incorrigible. He loves filling us in on his sins of commission. Loves letting us know what a bad boy he’s been.

I’m more interested in what a mucked-up hypocrite he is today.

For Barkley to slouch on his soapbox and submit that Jason Collins’ flagrant foul on defenseless Tim Thomas is no big deal takes his fraudulence to un-chartered depths. This from a guy who threw a bar patron through a window for what, being discourteous, disrespectful, saying something outrageous? This from a player who instigated or retaliated against how many opponents during his career for a lot less at times, I’ll bet, than being yanked out of the air and knocked out of a playoff series?

Hard foul, my elbow. Had Barkley been the one to get flattened, guaranteed he would’ve come up swinging for all he was worth had he been able to get up. And, in the event he couldn’t get up and teammates failed to get even, guaranteed he would’ve denigrated them, too, same as Thomas.

As usual, Sir Charlatan has lived down to his label.