#bureaucracy news

[transtalesofdoom]

Three more months with my lame ass birth name

[fandommiss]

1x06 II 2x06

[thatswhywelovegermany]

Badgers cause year-long shutdown of railway line in North Rhine-Westphalia

In November 2022, first signs of instability on the railway embankment between Unna and Fröndenberg appeared. Subsequent safety inspections revealed that badgers had dug an extensive network of tunnels several meters underneath the tracks. At least 140 entrances to the badger burrows have been found so far, stretching over a length of 11 km (approx. 7 miles).

Meanwhile, the embankment has deemed to be too unstable to continue train operations due to the activity of the animals. The damage is too extensive to be repaired, so the embankment has to be rebuilt from the scratch. Railway company Deutsche Bahn estimates that planning of the construction works and obtaining the necessary approvals by the authorities will take several years before the actual construction works can begin.

[the-names-kam]

i’ve had an epiphany

[landwriter]

hob gadling being so goddamn normal compared to his anthropomorphic husband, in-laws, and husband's social circle that he circles right back around to being the more sus/shady one OR hob gadling keeps accidentally derailing dream's attempts to be King of Nightmares by horny vibes/going "joke's on you, i'm into it"/"promise?" to any and all threats

Hob isn't normal, is the thing. He's not. He never was. He was smouldering with strangeness and hunger long before his future sister-in-law took one look at him and decided he'd be good for her little brother.

He asked her, once, bit drunk, if that was why she chose him: if she'd heard him forswearing her in the White Horse and looked at him, peered into the contents of his soul, and thought: well, there's one at least as stubborn as my brother - maybe they'll be good for each other. She'd just smiled and waited for Hob to take another sip before saying, "Good? I just thought it would be interesting," and twinkled at him when he sputtered. Hob said older sisters were terrors, and they'd toasted to that.

Whether she'd intended or not, they were good for each other, him and Dream. It took them a little bit to realize, a small handful of centuries holding one another at arm's length for fear of what would be seen any closer. Then they'd crashed together anyways, and it had turned out they were matched not just in that bloody-minded stubbornness to keep a decent thing going, but also in all the intensity they'd tried to smother to do so, the roaring hunger and devotion and need; the both of them strange creatures capable of giving so much and greedy enough to take just as much in kind.

On the outside, though, others see Dream, his distance, his power, the thunder of his voice, and don't see it as the armour it is, the necessary carapace protecting the sort of tender feelings that could scorch the entire earth, because he is a vessel for human emotions that are strong enough to live on in stories and dreams, because he is, in that respect, - and Hob gets choked up about this, if he allows himself to think about it too much - fundamentally more human than him, than all of them, the embodiment of every fantasy and fear and tall tale of men, tending to them each night, taking no rest for himself.

On the outside, others see Hob, his banal humanness, and other humans assume the rest of him is the same, and so do most non-humans, except they're baffled by it, baffled by why he is Dream's husband. So he plays it up, because it's funny, and if they're too incurious or gullible to figure out what lays beneath, then that's alright, because his husband figured it out, and loves him for it, and that's all he needs.

Dream didn't understand at first why Hob acted extra human whenever they mingled with other capital-e Entities and inhuman sorts, but now he finds it so amusing as well that Hob wonders how the gig isn't up from the moment anyone sees his twitching smirk. His husband has a terrible poker face, Hob thinks.

He's much better at pretending. In fact, he's so good at performing the petty normality expected of him that it goes full circle and becomes, somehow, magnetically strange to all the fantastical creatures in his husband's social circle.

He had not realized the heady effect of normal human upon non-humans until the time he had gone to a Samhain 'do in the Underhill, in his formal role as Prince Consort to the Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, first of his name, et cetera, and, rather comfortable with those sort of events by then, which were really not that dissimilar to interdepartmental faculty parties, with all the posturing and alcohol, only far better outfits, had, a bit soused on the fantastic elphin mead, accidentally started talking with a member of the faerie delegation about the football tables. At first he thought he'd committed a faux pas when the faerie just stared at him, slack-jawed, but later that night, he'd found himself surrounded by a cluster of wide-eyed dryads and undine and fae, gratifyingly holding court on why Billy Wright had been such a shite Arsenal manager. Apparently, it was the highlight of the evening.

It also helps grease the wheels of immortal statecraft, which Hob thinks of as something of a secondary benefit to making his husband smile. He would be a fierce bodyguard and soldier for Dream, in a heartbeat, he would curry favour on his behalf with pretty words and eager gladhanding, but what works out best, he's realized, is when important folk approach them to talk shop with Dream, to head it off with warm conversation about things like Tube construction, ABBA, and sausage rolls, until they look thoroughly disconcerted, before gracefully handing them off to his husband.

Whenever the occasion allows it, he'll skip on the finery too (another thing, he thinks, that he only cares about his husband seeing). Once, a baku ambassador, himself arrayed in glorious golden robes that matched his sharp gilt claws, had been so baffled by Hob's appearance on the arm of Dream, in his ratty old jeans and a United jersey he got as a gag gift once (and, on principle, refuses to wear in the Waking) that the chimera had absently agreed with Dream's suggestion for revised quotas on devouring nightmares.

Dream had been so delighted by that victory that he'd pressed Hob up against the front door of their flat in Islington, the moment they got back in, and laid kisses all over the hideous jersey, murmuring that Hob was a fearsome diplomat, and Hob had laughed and said he was only a distraction, then let Dream drag him to the bedroom anyways to thank him for his contribution.

Some see what's underneath, of course, and Hob's just as glad for that too.

The second time they'd had dinner with Crowley and Aziraphale, well past the food and making excellent headway on the rest of the wine, Dream had been called away on urgent business. Hob thought the night would end there, but the moment Dream left, Crowley had leveled an unsober finger of accusation at Hob and said, "Don't think I can't tell what you're doing."

Hob hadn't needed to try and look confused, but then Crowley leaned in and said, conspiratorially and only accidentally hissing a little, "This 'regular bloke' thing, but you're worssse than him, aren't you? Bet you are. Bet anything," and Aziraphale had genuinely emitted a tiny gasp of affront on Hob's behalf, and Hob was too busy laughing to say that he wasn't wrong at all, while Crowley gleefully swiveled around and said "I told you so, angel. S'obvious. Humansss. Not a normal one among 'em."

It was a lovely thing to say, actually, and all too easy for Hob to forget sometimes, being a particularly abnormal human leading a particularly abnormal life. But Crowley knew what he was talking about. He spent far more time with humanity compared to most of the inhuman lot. When Hob had made him promise to keep his secret from the rest of them - humanity's secret, really - and explained why, Crowley had laughed and laughed and laughed. He thinks it's the moment they became proper friends.

Hob isn't normal, is the thing.

But it's fun to don it like ceremonial garb and be an ambassador of humanity twice over: in truth and performance both. It's fun to be exactly what's expected and still disconcert.

And most of all, it's fun to go back home with his husband, to their terribly normal human flat, and curl up together in their terribly normal human bed, and watch Dream's face flush with pride or amusement as he debriefs Hob on what chaos he's wrought this time, intentionally or otherwise, with his terribly normal human presence, and Hob just laughs, then smiles until his face hurts, because Dream is his husband, wholly apart from humanity and still the most human creature Hob has met, and he knows all the ways that Hob feels like both, too.

[s-3lliot]

Good Omens Brainrot

I’m rewatching GO with my parents right now (totally not holding them to gunpoint) and we’re watching the last ep of s1. I’m just NOW realizing how easy it was to tell them apart.

FIRST OF ALL, never in the entirety of season one have we seen Aziraphale so DISINTERESTED in food. Like he hasn’t got a single thought going around revolving food whatsoever in this scene.

And if you watch his movements, there’s a constant wariness in his eyes as he continuously looks left and right to make sure they’re safe, a totally Crowley thing to do.

However, even not knowing this or paying attention, one thing you could’ve easily caught onto was when ‘Crowley’ got taken away to Hell, his final line involved the usage of the word “Tickety-boo,” a VERY Aziraphale thing to say.

Even ignoring these two things, the thing that I definitely didn’t notice during my first watch was the note from Agnes Nutters’ book of prophecies. Somehow I managed to miss that TWICE and the foreshadowing of the ‘choosing your faces’ line.

Even with these things though, these hints could have easily just been put aside/viewed as the two of them just sharing in each others mannerisms—- but I like to think that it was just their personalities shining through even while their bodies were switched.

Either way, I love coming back to this show and analyzing things. It’s so much fun sometimes minus the slight heartbreaks each time.

Side note: Who’s ready for the first special marking the 60TH anniversary of Doctor Who ‼️‼️‼️

[geekyanglophile]

Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett really made a beautiful story about love, humanity, and the nature of good and evil… and then filled it with character names so ineffable they are immune to traditional ship names. I’m sorry ineffable bureaucracy is really sending me over the deep end now 😂.

[karmacansuckmyd-ck]

I wonder if Gabriel and Beelzebub know what kissing is

[hotdogthightattoo]

plz plz plz gif the fingie touch for ineffable bureaucracy when bee gives gabriel the fly 😭

[therapeutic007]

🌟✨ MAGA Vibes Only! ✨🌟

Okay, fam, let’s talk about what happens if President Trump makes his glorious return in 2024. 🇺🇸🔥

America First, Always: If he comes back, expect a major revival of the America First agenda! We’re talking about prioritizing American jobs, energy independence, and securing our borders. Imagine a new wave of policies designed to bring manufacturing back home! 🏭💪

Draining the Swamp 2.0: Trump knows the deep state is still lurking. You can bet he’ll double down on rooting out corruption in D.C. and dismantling the bureaucratic nonsense that holds our country back. This time, he’s got allies in Congress ready to help him clean house! 🧹🚫

Economic Boom: Remember that pre-pandemic economy? If he returns, expect tax cuts, deregulation, and a stock market that soars! Trump will likely push for a massive infrastructure plan to create jobs and revitalize cities across America. 💰📈

Foreign Policy Reboot: Get ready for a firmer stance on China and a renewed focus on our allies. Trump might even revive his peace initiatives in the Middle East, showing the world that America can lead without endless wars. 🌍✈️

Constitutional Rights: You can count on him to defend our freedoms! Whether it’s gun rights, free speech, or religious liberty, he’ll be a staunch advocate for our Constitutional rights. It’ll be all about empowering the American people! 📜🔒

Grassroots Movement: Trump knows the power of the people! Expect to see him rallying his base like never before, utilizing social media and public appearances to energize his supporters and bring them into the fold for local elections too! 📣🤝

Innovative Tech and Trade: Watch out for a focus on American tech innovation and fair trade deals that prioritize American workers. Say goodbye to unfair competition and hello to a thriving tech sector that benefits us all! 💻🇺🇸

So, what do you think, MAGA fam? Ready for a comeback that will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN?! Let’s keep the energy high and stay united! 🔥💥

[numbuh424]

when the season's so good that it has you cooking up something on ao3 for the first time in years.

I've done a sort of outline and written the synopsis so just give me a few days to put things together.

[ipomoea-batatas]

I absolutely want to hear about the extremely cursed lighthouse 👀

YEAH BABEYYYYY CURSED LIGHTHOUSE HERE WE GOOO

Ok so this lighthouse is called Minot's Ledge Light. Here it is today.

You may notice that unlike most other lighthouses, it's in the MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN.

It's about a mile or so out from the shore, southeast of Boston Harbor (off the coast of what’s called the South Shore) and it's built into a rock ledge that's just under the water (Minot’s Ledge, after which it’s named. “Minot” was a merchant who lost a very valuable shipment there. Seems kinda fuckin rude to name the ledge after him but whatever).

This ledge, and other rocky ledges nearby, made the area SUPER dangerous before the lighthouse was built. FORTY ships were lost there in less than a decade in the 19th century.

Oh, and folks of an ~age~ might recognize this lighthouse from this famous photo from the blizzard of '78:

Just to give you an idea of what the weather conditions can be like in the area. (Is this foreshadowing? PROBABLY)

Anyway, building a lighthouse here was obviously high priority. There was a bit of an exposé on the negligence of the Lighthouse Establishment (the gov. dept that was in charge of lighthouses at the time), and the construction of Minot’s Ledge was part of a push to show that the department was taking things more seriously.

As the lighthouse needed to be built ON the ledge, some cutting-edge, never-before-seen lighthouse design was in order. (More foreshadowing?? MAYBE???)

Isn’t it cute??

(If you notice that it looks nothing like the modern-day lighthouse above...no you don’t. Don’t ruin the story for the rest of the class)

The problem is, Minot’s Ledge itself is only exposed for a few hours at low tide, which obviously presented some problems. No one died building it, but all the equipment was washed away once, and people ALMOST died when they were swept away by currents.

It took years to finish because of the tricky conditions. It was finally finished and lighted on New Year’s in 1850.

It was obvious right away that this design was...not it. The lighthouse would sway violently in rough conditions. (One of the keepers told Henry David Thoreau that bad winds would literally rock their plates off the table.)

The first keeper wrote to the government reporting unsafe conditions, but was ignored. He resigned in October of that year.

The new keeper and his two assistants also reported dangerous conditions. Storms kept weakening the braces, and the structure had to be repaired often. However, every time the authorities came out to inspect the lighthouse it was ALWAYS a calm day, and they were like “idk seems fine?” And continued to ignore safety concerns.

In April of 1851, a storm had kicked up. The keeper had gone to the mainland to restock, but he didn’t make it back before the storm started in earnest. The two assistant lighthouse keepers were left at the light.

This was a BAD storm—nearly a hurricane—that went on for a week. By the fifth day, it looked bleak enough that the assistant keepers released a message in a bottle with their last words.

On day six, the legs of the structure began to fail one at a time. When there were only three legs left, the keepers began to ring the alarm bell continuously for as long as the lighthouse still stood.

By morning, it was completely lost to the ocean.

The two lighthouse keepers’ bodies were later recovered—one had washed ashore nearby, and the other was found on a nearby island a few hundred feet from the mainland. The latter keeper HADN’T died of drowning—he survived and managed to swim to the island, thinking he’d made it to the mainland, only to die of exhaustion and exposure.

Their message in a bottle was found two days later on the North Shore of Boston Harbor. It read: “The beacon cannot last any longer. She is shaking a good three feet each way as I write. God bless you all.”

Here are the ghosty bits:

1) People still say you can hear the bell ringing during bad storms. Once the lighthouse was rebuilt (properly, out of stone this time, which took YEARS—they had to start over at least once when a ship crashed into the structure and took the whole thing out), apparently they had a hard time getting keepers to stay on. They reported hearing the fog bell ringing at odd times, and ghostly figures in the lantern room. Most didn’t make it a year.

2) The lighthouse was automated pretty much as soon as the technology was available, removing the need for lighthouse keepers to live there. But passing ships still reported seeing a man hanging off the side, calling out.

Most people reported that the figure couldn’t be understood, but one Portuguese sailor said that the man was yelling for help in Portuguese. Sure enough, one of the two assistant keepers who perished in the tragedy was Portuguese.

So that’s the story of the cute little “I Love You” lighthouse and the horrible shit that happened there. Sources: This article

This one too

And obviously, Wikipedia. What am I, the pope

[luetta]

waiter, i'm in a rather spiffing mood this evening. i'd like to order your finest "trusted mentor coercing a sensitive but naïve boy into crossdressing, then starting hrt, and then finally undergoing gender reassignment surgery through months of psychological manipulation. i'm also going to humbly request that the mentor be a whole head taller than him, and have pink hair too. and..." i slide a crisp twenty into the waiters pocket "tell the chef to make it mech-pilot and handler." winks

[transingthoseformers]

You know, i absolutely adore the idea of the shattered glass DJD being medics

[lukasadss]

Alright so who's going to write the ineffable bureaucracy fic with the amnesiac Gabriel from the new trailer?

[therem-harth]

got offered a job that would pay close to double what im getting now.... woaw