As we know, Mike is a socially awkward dork who thinks that he was somehow born better than anyone else despite not having a clue as to how normal people actually behave. This is why he at one point wailed
about how awful it was that he had to be the glittering but misunderstood genius his inferiors cruelly mistreated as well as why he confused having to be treated like one of said beefwitted nonentities
who weren't as excellent as himself as a demeaning form of torture inflicted by the incompetent on his excellent self. Add in the tendency that this self-absorbed nitwit has to smirk like an idiot when he triumphs over the inferiors
who want to enslave him with their family politics and his pathetic mewling when he doesn't get his own way
and you quickly realize that you're dealing with a Canadian Content version of another eminently punchable human being that goes a long way towards explaining why newspapers are dying: Les Moore from Tom Batiuk's Funky Winkerbean.
Much as it is with Mike, there isn't a social norm Les is able to wrap his pea brain around. The same man who says gibberish like 'solo car dates' never quite manages to figure out that most of why his students don't thrive like he wants them to is that he's a droning jerk who radiates contempt for anyone not in love with the crap he loves. Rather than accept that he's an incompetent well past his sell-by date, Les joins his fellow failures in blaming the children they can't teach for the poor grades they get. Also, we had to spend a summer in agony watch the mewling nincompoop whine because some poor fool movie director tried to make his beloved book of cancer, loss, heartache, despair and wounds that can never heal into something people would watch without
succumbing to darkness-induced audience apathy. Worse, the dick tried to sabotage the thing because the bone they threw him wasn't nearly big enough. It's like watching Mike moan because Gluttson asked him to actually act like a senior editor when that might expose him to criticism. Granted, Michael has yet to make a snippy comment about how people who can't stomach abuse porn are silly people denying reality but that's just because the curtain came down on him before he could whine about the beefwits.
Worst of all, both men are married to a passive-aggressive jerk who cheers on their every stupid move while at the same time tormenting them like a cat does a mouse. Granted, Les had to wait longer because his real wife told him to wait until he was sixty to remarry but both of them found their enabling tormentor. Cayla grins as she allows Les to slobber over Saint Dead Lisa and torments him with scary and wrong expectations that he'll act like a member of society instead of a bizarre freak who can't and won't understand the real world while Deanna allows Mike to fort himself away because she's a G-rated version of the freak from Misery.