This is the time of year when people with too little to say and too much time to say it talk the loudest. It is also the time when those with minimal knowledge but access to a microphone or pen make clear that Abe Lincoln was right many years ago when he said: “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.”

Which brings me to Terrell Owens and the faux “outrage” of some surrounding his failure to gain entry into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in his second year as a candidate.

To them I say: LaVern Dilweg.

To them I say: Billy Wilson.

To them I say: Billy Howton.

To them I say: Sterling Sharpe.

To them I say: Michael Irvin.

To them I say: Cris Carter.

To them I say: Art Monk.

I could go on, but I’ll leave it at that.

What do the first four have to do with T.O. and his “tragic,” “shameful,” “incredible” two-year wait to reach Canton? They are all still waiting.

Dilweg was considered the best end in pro football history until the arrival of Don Hutson. He retired in 1934. He’s still waiting, T.O.

Wilson led the NFL in receiving three times. He made the Pro Bowl six times. No less a passing expert than Bill Walsh repeatedly said he belonged in the Hall of Fame. He retired in 1960. He’s still waiting, T.O.

When Howton retired he was the NFL’s all-time leader in yardage and receptions, breaking Hutson’s long-held records. Not second. Not third like T.O. The leader. He retired in 1963. He’s still waiting, T.O.

Sharpe was on par with Jerry Rice for most of his career, a five-time All Pro and one of only seven receivers to win receiving’s “triple crown” by leading the league in receptions, yards and touchdowns in the same season. He set the single-season record for receptions in 1992 and broke it a year later. He was forced to retire due to a neck injury in 1994. He’s still waiting, T.O.

Owens’ resume and accomplishments are impressive. Not as impressive as Howton’s at the time he retired or Dilweg’s or a lot of other players who had to wait to gain entry into arguably the most exclusive fraternity in professional team sports, but impressive all the same.

Owens’ “problem” is barely 1 percent of all the players who ever played are in the Hall. News bulletin to the Mike Florios of the world: It’s supposed to be hard to get in. That’s what makes it mean so much when it happens.

So how long has Owens waited? Not as long as Michael Irvin. Not as long as Cris Carter. Not as long as Art Monk. Not as long as Andre Reed or Tim Brown or Bob Hayes or all but a handful of the 32 Hall of Fame receivers in NFL history. In fact, only five receivers have been first ballot Hall of Famers — Jerry Rice, Don Hutson, Lance Alworth, Paul Warfield and Steve Largent. One can quarrel over the last two perhaps (although not if you ever saw Warfield play, which few of those railing about T.O. did), but not the first three.

New York Daily News writer Manish Mehta couldn’t tell you one thing about Billy Howton and wouldn’t know Warfield if he ran into him in an elevator, yet he’s loudly concluded, as others do every year, that “the system is flawed” and must be changed. The best change, of course, would be putting those folks doing the faux kvetching on the committee. Who are they really trying to get in? T.O. or themselves?

Mehta claimed those who voted against Owens did so because they were either old, out of touch or suffered from “lazy thinking.” He cited Owens’ stats but conveniently left one big one out: Owens not only led the NFL in drops once, he finished in the top four in drops seven other seasons during his 15-year career.

To help those suffering from “lazy thinking,” let me help you. That means for more than half the years he played, Terrell Owens was annually among the top four receivers in drops. Sorry, but that’s not my definition of “first-ballot Hall of Famer.”

It is not a reason to exclude him either, but it is a reason for having happened to Terrell Owens what happened the past two years, which is to say more deserving players who in many cases were waiting longer went in ahead of him. It doesn’t mean the door is closed. It means there are annually more worthy candidates than seats.

I’ve heard some critics say, “How could they put in a kicker ahead of T.O.?” Here’s another way to look at it. How could they not put in one of the handful of players in NFL history named first-team All-Decade in two different decades ahead of someone who was first-team All-Decade in no decades?

Some critical of Owens’ failure to yet be inducted also cited some examples of “supporters” of Owens’ induction. One I found particularly amusing was those citing Bill Parcells, who said in a radio interview, “I think I would. I think I would. . . . He certainly was highly productive and did some very remarkable things on the field.”

But he also said in the same interview, “There are things that go unseen by the public, and people watching the games — there are things that happen on the field that, even when they happen, the fans and the laymen do not recognize what happens, and in his case, he was somewhat unreliable in some of the things he would do. Sometimes we’d have a route that was called at 12 (yards) and he’d run it at 9 (yards). Well, that disrupts your quarterback and things like that. But that being said, he still was highly productive and I do think he warrants very, very strong consideration. I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t get in very shortly.”

To that I would add only this: Go look up the definition of lukewarm. After you read it, ask yourself if Parcells’ “endorsement” cries out “injustice.”

Unless you’re a proponent of “lazy thinking,” I’d argue it did not.

Then I’d look up how many times those five receivers who were first-ballot Hall of Famers finished in the top four in drops. After that, you might want to drop your volume a bit on this matter and wait for T.O.’s moment to come, as it rightly will.