Thursday 14 June 2012

Goolie The Heritage Cat's Font Faux Pas


It had all started so positively for Goolie The Heritage Cat. The assembled company listened attentively as he spoke about John Wesley and Methodism, within the lovely tranquil setting of the Octagon Chapel garden/burial ground. 

The Octagon Chapel, Norwich
The Octagon Chapel garden/burial ground

He explained that The Octagon Chapel was once referred to, by local critics, as, "The Devil's cucumber frame" - which caused much mirth amongst the group. Goolie's tour seemed to be going very well. However, things were about to change...


You see, as well as having evolved two faces on opposite sides of his cat head, Goolie had also inherited the gift, known as, "speaking in font." This meant that he could effortlessly slip from speaking in, say, Times New Roman to a non-serif font such as Arial or Verdana. Remarkably, he was also able to alter the size of the font he spoke in. On a whim, therefore, he decided to switch to a larger font point size:

"... during his long life John Wesley delivered an estimated 40,000 sermons and..."




Well, you never saw such a scene! Such a flurry of snapping and snarling and honking and bumping and barging broke out... it was an Heritage Interpreter's worst nightmare! At the end of it, Bottie The Brassed Off Scottie was lying prone, with Henrietta Honk standing menacingly over him. 


You see, tiny fictional characters are very font sensitive. The smallest variations in point size or form can create alarming disruptions to their sense of wellbeing - and that is what happened here. 




Poor Goolie, his mind a-blank - off he went! Off he scampered, unnoticed by the bipeds with their shopping and heads full of worry. Off towards the big cathedral, where, pausing for a moment, he decided to seek solace in the discovery of medieval graffiti therein...


Medieval letter forms
Soldier with shield (Cloister west wall)
Complex multiple compass-drawn 'daisy wheels'
This was just what he needed. Standing at the open West door, Goolie spoke softly...






"Now my meridians are re-aligned and I'm ready for a dish of Alfalfa jelly, followed by a slice of delicious Fickle cake."


Goolie, with paws for reflection - what a cat!

1 comment:

  1. That's my sort of cat. Here in Bath, we not only possess an Octagon Chapel, but we also kicked out John Wesley before he had a chance to slag us off from the pulpit. That's my kind of town.

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