The first rule about Manifesto Fight Club…

Don’t talk about Manifesto Fight Club

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Yes, this really was the heading to my notes today from Research & Bibliography.  As an exercise in passionate thinking, our writing professor–DJ–fashioned a study of famous manifestos for us to read last week, and this week we were to return with a manifesto of our own in hand.  At first glance, it seemed like the assignment was really an invitation and railpass for the crazy train, but I would say–without exception–people were fired up to present their manifestos today for the class.  My topic was one of intense passion for me:  fonts.  What follows is a tirade on Comic Sans.

As we learned in our study, manifestos have a certain flair for formatting.  Since WordPress can’t replicate that easily, feel free to view the original document here.  Below is a little taste.

Because fonts matter. Fonts are the well from which you dip the written word.

Give me fonts drawn from a spring-fed pool ladled with a hollowed gourd;

Give me fonts brewed with coffee and served with cream in a ceramic mug;

Give me fonts distilled like smoky scotch poured in a cut-glass lowball.

These fonts enrich me.

Comics Sans is acid rain. Comic Sans is Sweet ‘n’ Low. Comics Sans is an appletini.

Snacks--and whose responsibility it is to bring them--occupies a full page in the syllabus for THEA 600.  The first week, Shane started the trend with bringing juice boxes.  I dutifully carried out the following with Jumex.  Liv, thanks for the Minute Maid this week.

Snacks–and whose responsibility it is to bring them–occupies a full page in the syllabus for THEA 600. The first week, Shane started the trend of bringing juice boxes to accompany the munchies. I dutifully carried out the following with Jumex. Liv, thanks for the Minute Maid this week.

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