The time has come to acknowledge the lamentable fact that our planet, the Cinderella of the Solar System is a biodiverse miracle held hostage by a rapacious, murderous, occupying force whose prime instinct appears to be destruction.

Within the hierarchy of this occupying army are the many millions of male heterosexuals whose defining characteristics are aggression, violence and bigotry. The bigoted male heterosexual is the least evolved of our species; and his role is one of conformity redundant ideas and resistance to social progress.

The bigoted male heterosexual possesses little or no imagination—with neither interest nor flair for the customising of garments—yet he excels in a brute force mediocrity that has engulfed us in the theatre of perpetual conflict and war, for millennia. In short, and broadly, we are still living in a world of medieval automata, but with advanced technology.

If we are to move beyond the realm of mindless subjugation and abject human misery; indeed, to move beyond a world of severely-restricted gender roles, double-denim, and the relentless roll-call of Saturday afternoon football results, then there is only one solution: the ‘bigoted male heterosexual’ must be reduced in number.

He must be culled, because the levels of testosterone in our societies preclude the possibility of lasting peace; the fluidity of gender; the enhancement of colour scheme in our lives and, concludingly, love.

Now, you may call it selective extermination; I call it fast-tracking us towards a more pleasant world in which to live.

Naturally, a well-adjusted and caring individual is filled with horror and revulsion at bearing witness to such a proposal. But, and this is important to remember, it will be singularly motivated by love.

If we are to achieve our destiny of personal freedom; to exercise dominion over our own lives and individual choices; to walk to a request bus stop dressed perhaps only in a waist cincher corset and a Peek-A-Boo wig — without fear of hospitalisation at the hands of the violent serf, then the bigoted heterosexual male must be either reconstructed or eliminated.

To this end, I would like to suggest the implementation of the High Heel Manifesto. It is an unusual and radical idea, which proposes a natural deselection process to remedy the Cro-Magnon cancer that infiltrates every corner of our existences; darkening the canvas of our experiences with unfocused anger, humiliation, random assault, and worse.

In the interests, and in support of a humanitarian society that co-habits harmoniously with the natural fauna and flora of our planet, the High Heel Manifesto sets out the following idea to eradicate bigotry, intolerance, and its consequences.

For one whole year and on Fridays, all men will be required to wear a high heel shoe. The shoes will have a heel of five inches in height, beyond which a platform sole will, sensibly, be introduced to avoid incorrect posture and lumbar complications. They will be issued in the following styles: a court shoe—which could only possibly flatter anyone—a mule; a slingback, and a strap sandal.

Every household will receive a letter informing them of the start date, and the address of a local Argos where they can collect their shoes. The start date will commence in May, thus allowing men several months to acclimatise themselves to their footwear before icy conditions affect pavements, driveways and public spaces.

There will be resistance; mostly especially from males with an old-fashioned and traditional outlook, together with those who work at more physical jobs such as construction, plumbing and motor car maintenance. Those who fail to comply with the new code will be required to wear a mule, which offers no support for the heel and whose open-toe design is inappropriate for winter. (One may expect an upsurge of frost-bitten toes teetering into Accident and Emergency.)

The bigoted heterosexual male — for it will chiefly be them — who refuse to undertake the wearing of a high heel shoe for one year, will be sent to a tribunal. There, he will be asked to reconsider his decision. If the answer is a negative he must declare, three times, ‘Je refuse’, upon which he will be taken into custody before transportation to Antarctica.

Again, you might call it anti-humanitarian and heavy-handed; I call it the logical removal of wilfully unreconstructed individuals who cleave to retrogressive notions, and who make life unpleasant for the rest of us.

After all, if you would rather live on barren, bleak tundra than trot to work in a stylish slingback on ‘High Heel Fridays’, then, and we say in the theatre, ‘That’s your problem, ducky.’

James Maker is the author of AutoFellatio, which is due for release on July 5, published by inkandescent.co.uk

Photography: Justin David