Last week my high school friend posted a link on my Facebook wall. Immediately realizing the link was a monologue tribute to the popularly despised typeface, Comic Sans, I was overcome with excitement and had to share it with my dear friend, Richmond. I posted the following link on his Facebook wall:
(note: click the link and read the monologue before proceeding to make sense of the rest of the entry)
After a few hours from posting the literary treat, I received an email notification (Yes, I know there is a way to get rid of that, but I actually enjoy not having to check my Facebook for new comments and “likes”) that Richmond replied to the posted link with his own personal monologue:
“If Comic Sans were a person, I’m sure we’d get along smashingly and have a drink every now and again. But in all honesty, Comz, as I’d call him on familiar terms, just isn’t my type (literally); I envision him suffering from a stunted mental maturation, likely caused by rising to fame at an early age and never really having to grow up. I mean, let’… See Mores face it, his fan base is comprised of people who have a high rating on what we’ll call the Bieber Index, for reasons that don’t need to be discussed here, definitely not the most innovative people in the world, but what they lack in taste, they make up in sheer mindless mass consumption. Maybe we wouldn’t go out together (largely because I wouldn’t want to be seen in public with him), but that’s not to say I wouldn’t invite him over just to hang out every once in a while. Truthfully, I imagine he’d always be coming over to my place anyway because his landfill-adjacent trailer would be too small and lacking in potable drinking water.”
I was so impressed, inspired AND amused by Richmo’s wit and creative writing, that I took a stab at writing my own monologue in reply to his:
“To my glorious Richmosis,
You may enjoy a glass of bordeux from time to time with comic sans but I would probably never partake in such merriment. We never got along and never will. Like you, he’s not my type and i’m just… not that into him–not even if he was the last font in the univers! He just doesn’t get that when a girl says no, she really means no! Surprising me and appearing in places I least expect is never cute. It’s grotesque and also a good indicator that there should be some sort of restraining order.. or better yet, he should be locked up and have the key destroyed. I have rejected all his letters (literally) and have turned the courier away countless times. When will he get a clue? Even his creator, Connare, admitted that he never intended “Comz” to run around rampant. The futura he saw was one where “Comz” would serve his life peacefully in his rightful place, comic books. Instead, Connare created a monster! (Though he now claims it was all an azkidenz).
Alas, as “Comz” is free to roam the world, we will never be safe. He may appear approachable and harmless with his hand-drawn and playful nature, but do not be fooled! Once met, he is relentless and will follow you across land and sea from Georgia to Geneva. He knows no boundaries in culture nor language. Rumor has it, he was such a jealous lover, he once shot the serif! We have to get with the times and realize there may be no stopping him and his destructive ways. He has made an impact in this century and have gained followers such as papyrus. Who knows what else he has up his sleeves! Anyhow, the time has come. I bid thee farewell as I go once again into hiding. Please visit soon! We would have a rockwell time in gotham. Oh snaps! I hope he’s not reading this…
Yes, we are designerds. Judge us if you like for our great wit and intellectual (not to mention…humble) nature. But before you do, just tell me one thing.