My Head is Made of What?

If someone is especially recalcitrant, some people would call him a fathead. Or bonehead, or, after the manner of Archie Bunker, a meathead. In short, all the components of a steak--except gristle. No, the epithet gristle-head just isn't esthetically pleasing. In fact, next on the descending rung of degrading substances which your brainless skull can be filled is a bulky matter involving the digestive function; indeed, the very end result of what happens to steak once you masticate, ruminate, extricate, intestinate and finally excrete it. If you don't know what I mean, drop me an e-mail and I'll explain it to you--you dunderhead. And exactly what cut of meat is dunder? I asked my local butcher. He shook his fist at me and said, "Get away from me, airhead." Which is another story--bridging the animal kingdom to the elemental. An entirely new literary genre. You have your airhead, gashead, rockhead, crackhead, knothead--but I digress.

Why do I worry about things like this? You see, I used to be a gearhead. That's a term meaning "engineer." So when I see a pattern in something I wonder how the pattern evolved. or if the pattern was part of a design. And design is a beautiful thing, especially in matters involving story and language.