The dead father, who is some 3,200 cubits long, is being hauled across the landscape by means of a cable pulled by nineteen or so of his fathers. Excedpt the dead father is not really dead. He is past his prime, sexually and authoritatively. He is vain and foolish, but he looms large. He has been a confessor (his huge hollow leg is large enough to contain confessionals) and an autocrat. A manual for sons, offering sample fatherly monologues and tips on identifying fathers by color and general habit, is included for the confused.