Friday, April 15, 2011

Why you will always be confused in Ireland



Dear Flushers,
Sometimes you come across something and you just have to say WTF. Cultural idiosyncracies be damned, I do believe you will agree with me when I say that Irish sign posts are at best puzzling and at worst a waste of space.

Remember way back my first day without supervision in Dublin when an afternoon was royally botched by an incredibly misleading sign for the museum which shall not be named? I had hoped in vain that was the end to my confusions resulting from poorly conceptualized placemarkers. False. ALL Irish road signs point in the vague, general direction of a geographic location without regard to streets or human capabilities.

Yeah, you remember. I did not go in.

My most memorable set of instructions occurred on the way to the Guinness factory. Stopping at a local convenience store, a grumpy, foot trodden pack waited outside while friend Janetta and I politely asked the man behind the counter the way to the source of the sweet nectar of life. He responded with the enigmatic, "Turn left. Walk until you are tired.Then you are almost there." Perhaps we misjudged the shopkeeper. His exterior of a bored man getting his kicks by frustrating young foreigners may have simply been a cover for an existential guru with a special, Spar-based connection to the cosmos. Perhaps he was the Centra of the universe.

All this brings me to my original point, which is primarily visual. Please peruse the images below and reach your personal conclusions about Irish sign culture. As they offer little explanation, I have provided my own.


Please, do refrain from stepping on the birds.



Do what you want,
but don't blame us if someone steals your s#*%.


If one must fall off the Cliffs of Moher,
please do so in this fashion.





If you don't like it here, you can go to Hell, or a Mermaid's hole.




Watch out for the
_________!




flkdsahgoidksl.











Go do The Creep somewhere else.




Come visit Shankill road, where you can get both shanked and killed.
The worn torn area of Temple Bar does not appreciate your bombs. Please take your business elsewhere.



Feck it.

And finally,

my favorite...


Cars do not fly.



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