I hate you, Cambria font. There, I said it.
How have I developed such malice for something as seemingly harmless as a typeface? Well, to start with, you’re not what they say you are.
Your Wikipedia entry claims you were “specifically designed for on-screen reading and to be aesthetically pleasing when printed at small sizes.” Why, then, do I find you incredibly difficult to read? A few minutes of viewing you onscreen, and I’m lunging for the Advil.
Heresy? Perhaps to your legion of blind followers, who are constantly tossing bouquets at your tiny serifed feet. To them, you can do no wrong. And that has only given you an inflated view of yourself. As if you weren’t haughty enough to begin with.
Sure, you have the blueblood heritage that comes with being created by the fat cats at Microsoft. I bet you manage to slip that into dinner conversation, oh, four or five times a night.
And realize this, Cambria font: I’ve seen how you carry on with your Italian buddies. Palatino. Calibri. Bodoni. You sit there at the café, sipping your espressos, spooning your gelatos and hooting as the female fonts walk by. Remember the time you drove poor Lucida Sans to tears by calling her “pleasingly plump?” No lady font should be subjected to such abject rudeness.
Oh, yes, you’ve got quite the fan club, Cambria font. Of which I shall never be a member! When I open a document bearing your horrid presence, you know the first thing I do? “Select All” and then transform you into Times New Roman or another font that’s more agreeable. And more readable. And has less attitude.
You truly are a scourge upon the earth, Cambria font.
Now wipe that stupid smirk off your face.