Since winning election 2½ years ago, E. Garcetti has been correctly panned as a sissified version of a big-town mayor, once crawling along the unforgiving pavement to his car to elude journalists ready to pounce because he had fibbed about a secretive fundraising date.

Night before last, for the second or third time in his life, Hizzonor behaved like a man, nay, a gentleman. Confronted by crazed, swarming – yes, swarming — kindergarten dropouts who represent the mainstream of the Black Punks Matter movement, he retreated peacefully, skin luckily intact.

Mr. Garcetti was visiting a South Central church to calm the waters with the thug division of the black community. However, 50 young failures, criminals-in-training from Black Punks Matter, moved on him and threatened him, according to the newspaper report. Every punk was brave as an insect because he had 49 droopy mugs behind him. Alone, each would have folded like the single page of a newspaper.

When kids act like garbage in public – as these medicated mugs did at classy Holman United Methodist Church – you don’t have to reach deeply into the gutter to find a nut-case professor ready to defend their abysmal behavior.

Which brings us to the shaky mind of one Melina Abdullah – perhaps her stage name when she is ducking cops.

The pink-chested, chicken-hearted Los Angeles Times – which fears criticizing black punks as much as Muslim terrorists – identified Messy Melina as a professor of Pan African studies at Cal State Los Angeles.

Given the lack of seriousness and control in her tone, one with modest imagination would suspect that her classroom no doubt will produce a crowded dump truck of Nobel Prize candidates in the coming 20 years. I presume the desks are bulging with under-challenged intellectuals, thirsting, I tell you starving, to imbibe more arcane information about Pan African history.

Said Messy Melina: “The mayor has neglected, disrespected and abused the black community for far too long. We are here today because this is real for us. This is not a political game. This is not about your reelection. This is about our lives.”

If Messy, who is not intellectually potty trained, will apply two clothes pins to her undisciplined mouth, she will realize that 96 percent of murdered blacks are slaughtered by fellow blacks. Those are the people she should be bellowing about and at. But helping is not important to Messy. Some girls, like Messy, need attention when they are hopelessly insecure.