Ah, Comic Sans. It’s so nice, isn’t it?
No, it isn’t. Comic Sans is evil. It’s about as welcome in my house as Herman Van Rompuy is at a UKIP convention. It’s a creeping, insidious, unprofessional scribble that has no place in official documents. “Wait… official documents?!” you say? Yes indeed.
You see, it’s not only on leaflets for primary school jumble sales. I’ve seen it used in minutes for important meetings. I’ve seen it in marketing materials. I’ve even seen it on sets of accounts Yes, proper accounts, submitted to Companies House! And the primary spreader of this filth? Charities.
It’s true. My love for this country’s wonderful charities, which do so much valuable work for local communities, is being slowly eaten away by their fast-expanding obsession with Comic Sans. It’s like going to see Peter Gabriel in concert, only for him to perform his covers album. In full. Twice.
I’m sure it’s meant to be seen as a cuddly and lovely font that implies warmth and caring and I’ll take your big donation now, please. But it’s not. It’s as cuddly as Nicole Richie on hunger strike, as lovely as a polystyrene sandwich, as warm as the heart of a serial-killing penguin, as caring as Mid Staffordshire NHS Trust, and I’ll give you some money when you bloody well start using Arial like everyone else, alright?
And that’s why it’s a rational hatred…