You have to love Bob Fenster. That is an order.

The California (where else?) man is making a living from others’ stupidity. When he wrote “Duh: The Stupid History of the Human Race,” he figured that he had run out of stories of stupid human tricks. Wrong.

He is now on his third volume of our stupidity, “Well, Duh! Our Stupid History and Welcome to It.” ($10.95, McMeel Publishing). There is no end in sight. As our boy Fenster says, “Stupidity remains an exciting field of opportunity open to everyone. Intelligence has its limitations. Stupidity never says no.”

Fenster spares no one, not even the father of our country. When George Washington was chosen as the country’s first leader, he suggested that the new position should be called “His High Mightiness.” Good idea, George.

I loved the story of painter Modigliani, who was so poor that he would trade his paintings for drinks from Paris cafe owners. He must have been very thirsty. After he died and his genius was finally recognized (I am hoping for a similar fate), many of the cafe owners became wealthy from their wall hangings. Some didn’t. One cafe owner has a wife who wanted the canvas to cover her beds and sofas. She scraped all of that nasty paint off first.

It’s getting hard to find a hero these days. One of mine was always the chain-smoking Edward R. Murrow, famous for his radio broadcasts during the London Blitz. It seems our boy Ed once bet that he could duck faster than his friend could fire a BB gun at his head. Ed bore the BB scar right between his eyes for his remaining days.

The Ted Williams tale is apparently nothing new. You will remember that his children honored the Red Sox slugger when he died by freezing his body for later DNA sales, then cut off his head for good measure. It seems like when composer Joseph Haydn died in 1809, his head was stolen by phrenologists (you know them as bump specialists) who wanted to study the composer’s genius. It wasn’t until 1954 that the Vienna Academy of Music got around to returning Haydn’s head to his body.

In a move reminiscent of Rockland Judge Paul McDonald, who once fined a disorderly man a nickel for his “five-cent crime” – I believe it was scaling a bottle top across Main Street – Nebraska judge Richard “Deacon” Jones once set bail for one defendant at 13 cents. Jones was a sketch who occasionally signed official court documents as “Snow White.”

Must have been a Suffolk University grad.

The New York Times’ persistent problems with reporters who make up stories rather than taking the tiring step of actually talking to anyone is far from new.

Fenster reminds us that William Randolph Hearst ran a front-page picture in 1913 of Mexican children with their hands up, just before they were “murdered” by those fiendish Federales. Seems like the children were never killed and they were just waving at the camera, as requested. Seems like the children were in Honduras.

Fenster likes to give business its due. He included a piece on Domino’s Pizza and its clever 1988 scheme to promise delivery within 30 minutes or there would be no charge. In their haste to please, no less than 18 Domino’s drivers were killed before the promotion was dropped.

I once declared war on New Hampshire attorney (and step-turn dancer) John Wallace by placing a pink flamingo on his lawn. The flamingo went back and forth for years before it was lost (along with Mrs. Wallace) in the sands of time.

Thus, one of my favorite “Duh” reports is the one that states that for every real flamingo in the country there are 700 fake ones. 700!

I predict that Fenster can write these “Duh” books just as long as he wants to. Read the rest of this newspaper to see what people did just yesterday.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.