Escape from Comic Sans: would you, if you could?

{ Design Work Life via FFFFOUND! }*

IF ONLY.

Online publishing prefers sans serifs fonts for legibility and general easiness on the eyes. So if one, for some reason, determined (or was forced) to operate solely in the digital realm, the risk of encountering Comic Sans would always exist. That most aesthetically base typeface would always hover in the infinitely nearby ether, waiting to leap out and insult one’s intelligence and sense of sincerity.

If, however, one decided (or, in fairness, was forced) to remain solely in the world of tangible readables, maintaining daily contact with printed matter**, excluding all online readables, one MIGHT, in theory, achieve said escape.

Personally, I’d rather risk potential exposure to abominable web-friendly fonts than miss out on all the glory of the interwebs. Who in their right mind would intentionally shelter from that font of caustic, truthful wit The Oatmeal; NASA’s always-humbling Astronomy Picture of the Day; or, at the more frivolous end of the online gamut, Women Laughing Alone With Salad?

The enjoyment of these wonders might render impossible a guaranteed escape from Comic Sans, but it’s worth it.

* Also, how BRILLIANT is this faux-retro image‽

** (Proper printed matter like books and newspapers and magazines, not printouts of documents typed in Comic Sans.)

The book[ing] desk

{ Information desk, via FFFFOUND!}

I’m not sure I’d trust information sourced from behind a desk made of books that clearly can’t be opened for information-sourcing purposes, but I would certainly trust the person who designed said desk.

It’s rather reminiscent of that favourite chromatically arranged bookshelf of mine:

{ from Periodic tables of everything, which is definitely a related post }

A bouquet of alphabetically sharpened pencils

Alphabet sharpened pencils

{ by Dalton Ghetti, on Designers Go To Heaven, via FFFFOUND! }

“Don’t you just love New York in the Fall? Makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of alphabetically sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address…”  — (a slightly altered) Tom Hanks as Joe Fox in You’ve Got Mail (which, I confess, I have seen at least 200 times).

I am going to New York in the Fall. Am very excited. Excited enough to buy a bouquet of pencils in celebration. If only I could get a set of 26 like this, it would certainly heighten the vacationary* stationery loveliness.

* No, not a real word.

Even Nonomnivores Make Misteaks

We learn  from our mistakes. We learn from others’ mistakes. “The perosn (sic) who doesn’t make mistakes is unlikely to make anything”. If we didn’t make mistakes, I’d be out of a (new) job. AND I’d have nothing to quibble about. And nothing to scold myself over. For to err is human, and we are Errthlings after all.


{ by Monsieur Cabinet on Swiss Miss, via FFFFOUND! }

…but could you make mine an eggplant steak?
Or tuna if you must.
I don’t eat mammals.

NYYYE: Bewitched at the witching hour by musical magic and Mother Nature

As Oh-Nine switched into Twenty-Ten*… One pedantic blogger, Three friends of mine, and around Sixteen Thousand strangers were wildly dancing to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, in the rural coastal farmland wonderland that is Falls Festival, Marion Bay, Tasmania.


{ via The Mercury }


To the North, a full moon — a full BLUE moon — peered through the clouds:


{ via me, @miss_om }


To the South, behind the stage, instead of mankind’s incredible but economically and environmentally expensive fireworks, our pyrotechnics were provided by a truly electric lightning storm, erratically illuminating the wild Tasmanian night from end-to-end, for hours on end.


{ the view in Hobart, via The Mercury }


And then, as if sensing the combined heat of 16000 revellers, great big raindrops began to fall from the sky, lit like glitter by the neon green strobe lights. For the last hour of Oh-Nine, the crowd… went wild. The atmosphere was nothing short of primal.


A witching hour decorated by magic music and some of Mother Nature’s finest miracles? A bewitching start to the new year.


And speaking of witches**, the following is an item of wiccan imagery:


{ Witch Tower, via FFFFOUND! }

And THIS…

…is the official Yeah Yeah Yeahs t-shirt.


Wicked, yeah?


* Entering a new decade has been a popular topic of conversation of late. Personally, I’m more interested in the changed abbreviation. It seems like just yesteryear that we were all in a bother about how to abbreviate 2000 (after the convenience of ‘Ninety-Nine’ and all its predecessors). Turns out we were okay with ‘Two Thousand’, and the the rest of the noughties took care of themselves. Twenty-Ten rolls off the tongue beautifully, don’t you think? Though I hate to think where we’ll be this time next year. ‘Twenty-Eleven’ is far too polysyllabic: too cumbersome. But then simply saying ‘Eleven’ just doesn’t say enough: it lacks clarity. Oh well. At least we’ve got 363 days to decide on a suitably agreeable abbreviation.

** No, nothing about Karen O! Though the fact that she wrote the soundtrack to Where The Wild Things Are (and is pretty darn wicked) makes the wildness particularly relevant.

DEFINITELY RELATED POSTS: Camping on Tenterhooks (aka. Another apt OED Word of The Day)