Nothing like Father’s Day to show how truly inconsequential men are in this society. We’re little more than props, put there to advance the sale of barbecues, power tools, sporting goods, and neckties. Show Dad you love him. Buy him more power tools to stuff into his already overcrowded workshop. If we were honest with ourselves, we would call the third Sunday in June Canadian Tire Day. Mother’s Day is sentimental to the point of outright mawkishness, but at least there’s a bit of genuine affection there. As for us, we are nothing more than brute factors of economic production, and the sooner we learn that, the better. Once there’s a reliable and relatively inexpensive way to breed without us–and I don’t think that time is far off at all–our days will be numbered.