Wear your manhood on your sleeve
those women can’t be your disease
you’ve read the books and bought the shirt,
the Vagina Demons have no way to hurt
You know you’re macho,
know you’re brave
your fortress is your phallic cave
no Betas, Gammas, dykes or girls
can undermine your manly world
You’ll laugh at them and walk away
Fedora waved along the way
‘Cos MRAs are serious stuff
and of the pussy you’ve had enough
until that late night twinge occurs,
when you start to doubt that Holy Word
that girls are bad and boys are best,
so why should you feel so depressed?
Alone so late with no one there
your manhood just laid cold and bare
‘Til morning comes and you realise
these girls are all for other guys
those FemiNazis, dykes and dogs
Gammas, Betas, fags and hogs
‘Cos you’re the un-reconstructed male
and God designed you not to fail
so wave your MRA manhood high
and wait ’til late at night to cry

Written in the aftermath of the more or less inconsequential threats by ‘neomasculanist’/wanker Roosh V to visit the UK this is a bit of a double edged sword. The whole MRA thing is riddled with some pretty disgusting views, a lot of confusion, seemingly self-involved issues and rampant sexism but it’s also completely absurd. Like Britain First with their armoured Land Rovers, or Tommy Robinson with his entire life there’s definitely something not good resting at the heart of it but, for now at least, it seems so stupid that it’s hard to do much beyond taking the piss. Especially as Roosh’s meetings were all cancelled when they realised that, regardless of political affiliation, quite a lot of people would turn out to run them off. Anyway, a bit of rhyming is my response and I’ll leave the analysis for the day when these types can openly advocate their nonsense without everyone from female Boxers to the EDL offering them out.

Be sure to check out my new book No Cure for Shell Shock.

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