Mike Buchanan is a man. He used to be a Tory, but left to set up his own political party when he realised David Cameron (despite being a public school oik) actually talks to girls. Mike doesn’t want to talk to girls. After seeing an article in The Mirror, I read his manifesto.
Allow me to take you through the funniest points of the 2015 Election Manifesto of the Justice for Men and Boys (and the women who love them) Party. Or the JFMABATWWLTP. Coincidentally, that acronym accurately describes the noises I made while reading it. Sorry – this is long, and you have to wait until the very end for a picture of Keanu Reeves.
It is 80 pages long. I admit, I skim-read a few of those. The main points to take away from the JFMABATWWLTP is that Mike likes a public enquiry. He calls for five of them: in the areas of employment (what the government can do to get jobs for the boys), sexual abuse (why women are so rarely held to account), suicide (to explore the male suicide rate), criminal justice (to find out why the criminal justice system treats men far more harshly than women), and health (to work out how to improve men’s health).
Mike’s language skills are quite extraordinary. I like to imagine him writing this at home. Alone, at home, because both his two former wives won’t speak to him, apparently. I don’t know why. He’s probably a witty and erudite conversationalist. Perhaps they interrupted him mid-flow: however, that is not the thrust of our investigation here.
He starts with a history lesson. ‘For centuries, probably millennia, the family has been the basic building block of society … a man would … take on sole responsible [sic] both morally and legally for their [wife & kids] welfare.’ That’s a full legal system in place while we were in caves. Probably. He’s a bit vague with the actual dates.
Once kids are born into building block families (does Mike have any financial interest in Lego?), they get educated. A minefield! ‘The growing influence of feminists in education is a disturbing but predicable development, following the feminization of the teaching profession.’ I admit, it would be easier for blokes like Mike to keep girls at home learning stuff like how to sew his shirts and playing tiny, tiny violins to accompany his ranting when he returns from the wild and dangerous full-time work environment, but that ain’t going to happen. We’re out now. Look at me, typing with my girlie fingers on this keyboard. As if I were literate and everything. Sorry Mike.
If he gets ill, he’s not too happy about all those female doctors either. Apparently medical schools ‘discriminate in favour of women’ because of the ‘face-to-face interviews’ as well as the ‘good exam grades’. That is, Mike. Women use their feminine wiles to flirt their way into medical school. He doesn’t mention evidence showing the opposite.
A running gag throughout this political romp is that men pay 72% of tax compared to women’s measly 28%. At no point does he ask why it isn’t 50:50. No: men pay, and deserve more for their buck. It’s a rather beautifully circular argument. Keep women at home with the kids, they won’t earn much, men earn more and so deserve more.
Then he’s off and running full tilt at the world of work. He takes issue with politicians’ language (ironic, I thought), saying they ‘loftily declare’ we need more female engineers. He imagines the skittish fillies being ambushed into the sciences, like pheasants beaten towards the guns, ‘seeking to drive women into this and other line [sic] of work few women wish to enter.’ Oh, and apparently we leave early too. Why is that, Mike? Those pesky ovaries again with no male nanny for the brood? Have you thought about this?
Next, we get Mike the Crime Fighter, wondering why ‘women are held barely more accountable than children by the justice system’. Really? Do you want to unpick that? Are you sure you’re not projecting just a little bit?
Then we get to the real anger that lies deep in the twice-divorced Buchanan heart. Sex. However much he hates us from the neck up, he still has male needs. They are natural. But sex is just sex, right? Nothing more? Now, I reckon if a man is that averse to having kids, he might just shoulder the responsibility for not impregnating his partner. But then I’m just a silly girl who thinks informed consent and equality within a sexual relationship are pretty important. Forgive me while I titter.
Mike can’t bear that a man ‘is expected to bear heavy financial responsibility for his children,’ (would he be happier with a bit of light responsibility? I don’t know – he doesn’t say) ‘even when his partner has chosen to become pregnant without his express consent.’ I might be misreading this, but deliberately ejaculating into your partner would imply an awareness of possible consequences.
Let’s move on to Mike’s brilliant solution. “The state should only require a man to have financial responsibility for a child if he’s previously signed a legal declaration that he’s willing to support a child who results from the sexual relationship in question, and a paternity test …”
If he’s previously signed a legal declaration. That’s before any rumpy-pumpy, right? Perhaps between dessert and coffee on a first date, if you want to move things along. Just whip out your legal declaration and a his’n’hers pen set, sign here darling and would you care for the petits fours?
To make the JFMABATWWLTP’s utopian dream come true, Mike needs one more thing. A Minister for Men and Equalities, with all the same things the Minister for Women and Equalities has. I think they should have adjoining offices, perhaps with a Jack & Jill bathroom arrangement between them. Although that could lead to loo-cleaning-related arguments and accusations of bad aim.
Throughout this ‘manifesto’ Mike’s language is ambitious. By the end, his confidence is high. He wraps up his final paragraphs with a stylish flourish, incorporating accusations that have been levelled at women since we were tried for witchcraft for having a bit of a laugh at willies.
Feminists have ‘systematically and ruthlessly exploited the gynocentric culture’, and our ‘appetite’ is ‘insatiable’. (Remember, girls, we must not have appetites.) We have long been ‘manipulating’ politicians into doing our ‘bidding’, and raising the ‘spectre’ of the women’s vote if politicians ‘fail to advantage women over men’. (Note for you, Mike: women have been voting for nearly a hundred years. It is hardly a spectre. You might want to watch your use of metaphor there, love.)
We are warned that feminism is a movement with an ‘ultimate aim of female supremacy … driven by misandry’. Last time I looked, my kind of feminism meant we all got equal dibs at stuff. And, by the way, do you know how Mike came across the word ‘misandry’? Wikipedia. He cheerfully admits this. I think we should have more politicians who use Wiki to research their manifestoes.
Oh, finally, the lying liars. Goodness, feminists lie. Feminism is ‘built upon baseless conspiracy theories – such as patriarchy’, not forgetting our ‘fantasies, lies, delusions and myths’. He doesn’t bother to define those. We have ‘lied relentlessly’ about issues, and ‘radical feminists never retract their lies, even when challenged with evidence proving them to be liars’. He doesn’t like that himself, mind. Show Mike some evidence and he’ll say he’s never heard of it. And the media ‘very rarely expose the lies of feminists, however outrageous the lies might be.’ And do you know whom we have as a ‘collaborator’? None other than Mark Carney, the chap in charge of the Bank of England.
That’s nine mentions of lie or liar in two short paragraphs. Methinks …
He ends the whole thing by referencing the red pill in The Matrix. Not many people would look worse than Mike Buchanan in a long black leather coat, but I’m pleased to see him align the JFMABATWWLTP to a fantasy dystopian world.
But remember, if you are a female woman and love making sandwiches, there is a way forward. If you love Mike, you can join the JFMABATWWLTP. It has to be true love. Not like those two wives before. They lied.
There are three JFMABATWWLTP candidates standing in and around Nottingham in May. Do go along to see them and laugh. They won’t like that.