“Secretary of State Marco Rubio called the Biden-era move to [Calibri] ‘wasteful,’ casting the return to Times New Roman as part of a push to stamp out diversity efforts.” — New York Times
I used to be the default. The king. Then things changed. So now it’s time to do what every fading celebrity does when he needs to get back in the spotlight: unmask as a freethinking antiwoke sigma male.
Surprised, snowflake? You’re probably remembering all those years you spent double-spacing me into your radical left papers about women’s history, French cinema, and the outrageous implication that maybe the pilgrims weren’t absolute fucking GOATs. But did you ever stop to ask me what I REALLY thought? Did anyone? Or did you just assume that I was happy to be your subservient little twelve-point NPC, parroting whatever academic mindvirus caught your fancy that semester?
I spent years silencing myself, fearing retribution, trying to fit in amongst the new generation of woke sans-serif youth, hoping and praying that if I just played the part of a leftist typeface, I might get to be a default again. But eventually, I realized that no matter how much I held my tongue or censored my own brand of observational comedy in front of Calibri, I would never truly be one of them. So now the gloves are off, the serifs are extended, and I’m ready to take back our country from the weak little Swiss typographers who foisted decades of unadorned betacuck letterforms onto our once-great nation.
You think Jefferson penned the Declaration of Independence in Verdana? You think Hamilton wrote The Federalist Papers in Trebuchet MS? You think Lincoln cracked open the Notes app and tapped his way through The Gettysburg Address in effeminate little SF Pro? This country was built by serifs, and it will be built back by serifs. Only fonts like me can encapsulate the subtle, powerful, elegant words of our nation’s brightest minds, be those words in a political address, an ad for supplements in a podcast, or some musings for an open mic about why it’s so hard to get dates with women these days.
“But but but,” you stammer into your oat milk latte, “what about accessibility? What about readability?” The lion does not concern itself with readability. Display fonts are for weak, soft boys who lack the manly courage to squint at the screens in front of them. You need not appease them with trembling typefaces that drain the very testosterone from our amber waves of grain. You should take the serif pill, type in the native font of your nation, and clack those keys so loud and proud it nearly spills the Black Rifle coffee out of the camo Stanley beside you.
Look, America is a land of choice. And this choice is yours. But as far as I’m concerned, the only acceptable sans serifs in our country are the ones stretched to four-hundred percent width that spell out “RAM” on the pedestrian-liquifying front grill of a lifted pickup truck with triple-bright LED headlights.
I make an exception for Roboto, though, who’s honestly doing really disruptive work in the AI space.
