Golden Wonders

When I was a cute little thingymajig, I used to love the Childcraft collection of kids' encyclopedias/ae/i, which I rescued from the House Of Pain, which is less of a hip-hop collective and more of a nickname for the three bedroomed terraced where my eight cousins grew up. As the Nearest Brother is ten years my senior (this one time, he was asked whether he was my dad. Best. Moment. Ever), I had no one to eat and destroy my books, and no one to interact with who was made out of something more substantial than paper. Thusly did my book rescuing/stealing career begin. I still have what was left of the Childcraft collection after my cousins had "read" through them. There might be a page or so missing in some places, but all in all it's a happy little heirloom. The only problem is the utterly outdated information.

Anyhoo, one of my favourite books in the collection was Places To Know, which started off with a beautifully technicolored chapter on the Seven Wonders Of The Ancient World. So imagine my slight shoulder shrug when I read on rte.ie that a new wonders list had been compiled to reflect the modern world! They are...

The Great Wall of China
The ruins of Petra in Jordan
The statue of Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro
The Inca ruins of Machu Picchu in Peru
The Mayan city of Chichen Itza Mexico
The Colosseum in Rome
The Taj Mahal mausoleum...

Faskinating. I'm sure all of these places are very nice, and some of them might even exist, but could they ever compete with the mythical Hanging Gardens of Babylon (I think they've got Hanging Fields on site now to replace them)? Besides, what's the point in bigging up things that people can look at on t'internet? Things that everyone knows about? Is this dumbed down knowledge; stuff we already know about, confirmed to validate us? Oh, waily.

Note that none of them are to be found in Ireland outside of a snow globe. Methinks there's a sinister anti-Paddy plot at work here, keeping our lights under that feckin' bushel. Never fear though, snubbed countrymen. Sweary's on the case.

So without further ado-dahs, let me present to you the Seven Wonders Of The Irish World. Coz Bell X1 are right. The grass is greener where it rains.

1 - Penneys. Where financial common sense disappears.
Primark in the UK, God knows what else, where else. All I know is that you can't have a shopping district anywhere there's not a Penney's. It's got everything you need for Irish life; easily replaceable underwear, cheap kids clothes for the birthdays of your sprong's classmates, Italy t-shirts, cushions with tassles on, and surly brassers called 'Manda. Everything's cheap, so... you spend your entire SSIA there. Christ, how did that happen?

2 - Nuns; the fear of God in a bosomly package.


Nuns broke the backbone of Ireland. They bear the history of the land on their cats-arse faces. Simultaneously dodderly and dastardly, the nuns are to Ireland what the Colossus was to Rhodes; imposing, and smashed.

3 - The Marquee Of Cork; it'll blow you away.


When rock n' roll royalty come to Ireland, we don't give them stages and dressing rooms and toilets, no. We give them a tent. A massive fucking Wendy house with a big tear down the middle. And we put it in Cork, where people would cackle insanely if it were possible to cackle through one's nose. Who needs bulky pyramids?- the marquee, unlike any other wonder of the world (bar, perhaps, the nuns) can be folded away after use, which is a close metaphor for Cork itself; you go there, you stand in some mud, you destroy the evidence afterwards.

4 - The M50; the magic road.


A motorway, or tarmac heavy with symbolism, cutting through the lushness of times past? Or is it a giant car park? Is there an Ikea at the end? Is it the stage for an REM video? I dunno, but it's worth checking out, if only to hear the screams of terror when the cars inch forward; "It's ALIVE!" Only in Ireland could you find a road that goes nowhere.

5 - Abrakebabra; drunk birds, but no chicken.


Could anything be more enthralling than a fast food joint with no food? Yeah, the jokey theory suggests that I say it's called fast food because it runs right through you, but again, there's no food. Ordering from the menu in Abra is like asking the Council to post you a simple form. "Can I have a Housing Application/a burger?" Sorry, we've none left. "But you're a Council Housing Department/a burger bar." Nah, sorry, we've none left. "Can I talk to a Councillor/get a kebab, then?" No, we don't have any. "But it says Council/kebab over the door!" Yeah, but it's late, like. You can have a pamphlet on road safety/some taco fries instead.

6 - Moyross: Ireland's Narnia.


I couldn't find it on a bullet-holed map, yet it's the centre of Irish scandals; our South Central, a place you'd drive through with Woke Up This Morning blaring out your stereo. But where is it? Who lives there? Those are grand houses. What's with all the green space? This is deprivation? These fuckers don't know they're born! Moyross is nominated as an Irish wonder because most of us don't believe in it, yet Paul Reynolds keeps telling us it's out there somewhere; it keeps us awake at night - we're David Gest and Moyross is our Liza Minelli.

7 - Mary Harney; Minister For Irony
Because the PDs are disappearing rapidly and it's not into her belly. Jesus, she deserves a reward for that, c'mon!