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There’s a guy out in the middle of nowhere who runs a pirated AM radio station out of his van. Some kind of crazy conspiracy theorist. God knows how he even got that thing, by the way, because it’s clearly an old news van and he’s clearly unemployed. I only know about him because one of my friends accidentally switched his car radio to AM one night a few years ago and we both sat in complete and utter disbelief at the shit this guy was saying. Then we started laughing, and I made a note to keep an eye on this station.
When I got home that night, I did some digging and apparently the guy’s been at this for years. There’s an obscure re-upload of one of his broadcasts from the early 2010s. He’s a lot more nervous, stutters a lot more, there’s a lot of shuffling like he’s constantly looking over his shoulder in case his mom comes down the stairs and asks him what he’s doing. His mic quality is also complete garbage; combine that with the fact that the video is of someone literally recording their car radio, I could barely understand him. But I got the gist—he’s gotten more confident over the years and also more insane. They go hand in hand, I guess.
He’s big into anti-government shit, but not the kinda shit that ends up being real like MK-Ultra or fluoride in the water. He’s on that “turning the frogs gay” type of stuff, except he’s not also denying school shootings and all that. No, the kind of stuff he’s got going on is aliens. Alien robots. Working with the government. It’s absolutely wild.
He only really pivoted to alien robots within the past two years or so, but he pivoted hard. Like, one day he was talking about how the feds are putting microchips in bread and the next he’s a babbling mess like he was when he first started. By this point, I had long since taken to recording all his broadcasts for posterity, so I caught this one, too.
“There’s alien robots. I know there’s alien robots. I know this for a fact, guys, I-I swear on my life, I’ve heard them. I’ve heard them, I’ve heard them talking to each other, I’ve been in their communications channels, I know what they’re here for.
“There’s someone called “Optimal Pride” or-or something like that, and he’s... there’s something wrong with him? I don’t know what, but they’re- his faction or something, the Autonomous Robots, they’re hiding him somewhere.
“There’s another faction, called the Deceptions, and these two factions, they’re gonna- they’re trying to start a civil war here on Earth. Or maybe they’re already in one? I don’t know, my brain is- it’s all over the place, y’all.
“I think they turn into cars. Or, like, planes and trucks and shit. They turn into vehicles. They’re literally all around us, nowhere is safe. I mean, my van is safe. I’ve lived in this thing for a decade, I’d know.
“I just… holy shit, you guys, this changes everything. I-I’m gonna have to start moving around, this information has definitely put a target or two on my back, but I’ll keep y’all updated if the station changes or if anything happens to me. (Laughs) I just can’t believe it! Vindication, baby!!!”
That was all. That was the whole broadcast. And sure enough, the station changed frequencies a few times, but he always got the message to us.
After this, he completely stopped talking about anything else. It was all alien robots, every broadcast. He still answered calls, of course; if anything, they got more frequent. This is when repeat callers started showing up, when the trolls started pretending to be robots on his subreddit, when he started getting… really uncomfortable asks on his blog. As if this random crazy dude would know anything about how these things reproduce. He answers all of them, by the way. Point is, while he lost a lot of fans who were in it for the classic conspiracy content, he gained a shit-load more who were invested in this new thing he had going on. Including, dare I say, myself.
Speaking of the blog and subreddit. The sub is half actual fans of his who believe this schlock and half people pretending to be fans so they don’t get banned. There’s some people even pretending to be these “alien robots.” My personal favorite is a guy called “cliffyj84”, he really hams up the whole robot part. “Beep boop” and all that shit. I don’t know how he’s been evading bans, but I’m really glad he has. Radio guy’s blog is about 25% suspicious links and half-cryptic riddles shilling his station and 75% answering fanmail and asks. Lemme tell you, this guy couldn’t suss out bait if he tried. It’s peak entertainment watching him argue with people online.
He argues with people on the air, too. It’s somehow even more entertaining. There’s a guy who calls in frequently, calls himself B. He’s just as much of a dork as the radio guy and their arguments are legendary because neither of them know when to quit and hang up. Here’s a bit of the transcript of my favorite one.
“I dunno man, I would think that the fastest car would be the leader, right? Why would the big rig be the main guy, those things can’t go over 70 if they tried. Personally, I think the head guy would be the Camaro, y’know?”
“That’s the dumbest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard. Why would they have the fast ones lead? You must be high outta your mind, bud, ‘cause they wouldn’t be the leaders, they’d be scouts, pal. Scouts! Makes perfect sense if you aren’t lickin’ telephone poles all day.”
“Oh, big fuckin’ talk from a guy who lives in his van!”
“Me living in a house isn’t gonna make you any smarter, pal.”
See what I mean? It’s like listening to a podcast by two dudes who have the exact same worldview but hate each other more than anything. I honestly can’t believe he got this far, but I’m not about to complain about free entertainment.
It’s been a couple weeks and lately the broadcasts have been getting… weird.
There was a new caller today. They were… there was something off about them. I mean, they were clearly his biggest fan. They talked for hours, just back and forth, validating each other’s ideas. It was honestly kinda sweet? But the way this person spoke rubbed me the wrong way. I got it into my head to futz with their voice a little bit, just pitching it up and down, and…
It was his voice. The radio man.
I don’t… I still don’t really know what to do about it. Like, do I make a post about it? He didn’t notice, he didn’t notice at all. I mean, I guess it’s harmless? Worst case scenario, someone’s trolling him using his own voice. It’s not like it’s impossible to put together, like, a voice synthesizer using his voice. He’s been on the air for years, there’s a shitload of recordings, there’s more than enough material to put something like that together. It’s creepy, but it’s not illegal or harmful, right? It’s either that or he’s pre-recording calls for himself, which, again, is sad but ultimately harmless.
Besides that, he’s been getting a shitload more information about these alien robots. He’s calling them “Cybertrons” now, and he has more names. Metatron (leader of the Deceptions and “true leader” of their planet), Starscreech (Metatron’s second-in-command), Elitus (running against Metatron for leader). Frankly, the political structure of these guys seems shaky at best, but they’re not real, so I can’t really bring myself to care. Also I did some surface-level research and I’m like 80% sure that Metatron is an angel or something?
B’s still calling, cliffyj84’s still posting, the trolls are still battling the believers. Everything else is normal. A few people joked about how this new caller is Radio Man’s soulmate, but other than that I think I’m the only one who really… cared or noticed enough to…
Eugh, never mind, I think I’m just overthinking shit. I’m becoming obsessive and shit, maybe I should step away from Radio Man for a bit.
I’m seriously beginning to think this guy needs genuine help. Like- okay, let me explain.
According to him, he woke up one day to find his laptop on and a text file open, comprised entirely of encrypted messages. He decoded them pretty quickly (so he says) and they turned out to be private comms between the aliens. He said everything he had before this was found on open airwaves, even if they were very specific frequencies. This kind of thing could only be accessed if you were one of these things.
Again. According to him.
Like, this can’t be normal, right? He’s having memory fluxes or some shit. I mean, he doesn’t sound very old and he has a better grasp on technology than most teenagers, so… I don’t know. I don’t know and I hate that I don’t know because I’m trying to stop obsessing over this guy but he’s making it really fucking hard.
The “private comms” aren’t anything special, anyway, they’re just correcting his previous information to make it sound slightly less stupid. Honestly, at this point, I care less about this alien plotline and more about this guy’s rapid mental decline.
As for the fandom, I think it’s experiencing a kind of… frog boiling effect? Like the water is heating up slowly so no one is really noticing just how crazy it’s getting. Either that, or they really don’t give a fuck. Maybe a bit of both, who knows.
Again, I might be overthinking shit, but I think B’s been calling less. And when he does, he sounds… tense. There’s been a few times where he’s vaguely hinted that Radio Man is looking too far into this stuff. Predictably, Radio Man accused him of being a fed and they ended up arguing for the next hour like nothing had happened. But it’s still weird, right? I almost don’t want to see where this ends up.
It’s been a couple months and the calls are almost exclusively the doppelganger now. And the broadcasts are almost exclusively calls. It’s just hours of these two ranting to each other about these aliens. He still doesn’t realize it’s his voice talking back to him. Sometimes there’s other callers, but the doppelganger remains on the line the whole time. They’re officially a co-host now, I guess.
B’s gone. Radio Man says he’s one of the aliens. The only reason I know he’s still trying to call is because, every time, Radio Man will address him directly, saying, “Quit trying to call me, “B”, if that’s your real name,” and shit like that. The worst part is that sometimes he’ll play the shitty recordings he got of the aliens’ comms and… yeah, B’s voice is in there.
Again. Not that I believe in any of this shit. I still think Radio Man’s just being completely consumed by some undiagnosed mental illness. But, like… it’s still sad, right? That this has pushed him away from someone who could’ve been called his friend? Yeah, they argued every time they talked, but they still talked regularly, B called himself a fan multiple times, and now this fucking delusion has ruined it for both of them. I’m almost angry on Radio Man’s behalf, because he clearly can’t tell something’s wrong. He doesn’t know he needs help.
Heh. God. It’s honestly kind of depressing following this now. I really do need a break.
this is gonna be all over the damn place but it’s the middle of the night and im kinda freaking the fuck out a little bit. fucking honestly thank god i stayed up late doing homework jesus fucking christ.
i have a shitty little am radio specifically for listening in to the station (god i am obsessive) and when they’re not on, radio man just has like white noise playing and it helps me focus so i just leave it on when i’m doing shit. and lemme preface this by saying that there’s a strict broadcast schedule. the station is only online from 8 am to noon and 4 pm to 8 pm cst. on. the. dot. not one minute early or late. not for years.
there was a broadcast just now. it’s 2:30 in the morning.
i wasn’t able to record the beginning, but it was about half an hour long and it was just… sounds. it was just fucking sounds. not even like backwards speech or anything, it was just fucking weird noises for half a goddamn hour.
god. fuck. hold on.
what the fuck.
there’s another one.
god i can barely even read that. i think it says “soundwave superior”, whatever the fuck that means. this is seriously turning into some arg shit. if i hadn’t been listening to this station and watching the fanbase for years i’d think we’re being played, but i don’t think radio man even knows what an arg is. fuck i need to post about this. i need to know.
it was deleted. why was it deleted.
oh god im gonna be sick
His name was Clint. Clint Fairbanks. 32 years old, divorced a decade back. Not local, all his family lives down in Missouri. Hasn’t spoken to them since the divorce. Had absolutely no contact with any of them. His parents had no idea what he was up to all these years. He had a kid. They’re a freshman in high school now.
His whole life, he wanted to be an astronaut. He wanted to see the stars. He’d go out into the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night just to get a better look at the galaxy. Over time, he started obsessing over aliens. It evolved into general conspiracy and then back to… well, you can probably guess.
Little by little, he built his set-up. He saved bit by bit, penny by penny. Mostly scavenged scrapyards and junk sales and fixed up what wouldn’t work. The inside of his van looked like something the CIA would have allocated two million dollars for. That thing was his pride and joy, anyone could tell you that.
His final broadcast was… Christ, I feel ill just thinking about it.
It was just screaming. It was just screaming. There were no words. It was just the guttural, animalistic screams of a man being brutally tortured to death, interspersed with the crunch of bones and the snap of tendons. It eventually died down into gurgling sobs and slurred pleading for his life. He wanted to hug his kid again. He wanted to apologize to his ex wife. He wanted to see his parents one more time.
He started screaming again after that. There were wet coughs and splatters on metal and just more screaming.
And then, like a cheesy fucking horror movie, the screams blurred into laughter. His laughter. There was a final squishy thud that actually made me gag, and then a sound like a snake made of bungee cord slithering over corrugated steel flooring. And then another snake. And then another. Soon my ears were filled with the predatory whispers of synthetic pythons.
And then he spoke.
And it was wrong.
“We’re gonna have some fun, aren’t we? We’re gonna have a real good time, everybody.”
It sounded like something crashed into the side of the van, and then there were a series of whirs and clunks and clicks. There were shouts, but I couldn’t make them out. There was too much static. There was too much laughter.
“A real good time.”
And then it ended. It was over. We all knew what happened. It was… it was too real. No one could fake those sounds, they were just too… perfect. I had to vomit twice, but I couldn’t take my headphones off. Something was compelling me to keep listening. The broadcast lasted an entire hour. It was exactly on time.
They never recovered his body. Not entirely. There was only a red stain on the ground, shards of bone and teeth and chunks of already-rotting muscle. I saw the pictures.
I feel both like Werner Herzog listening to the tape of that one guy being mauled to death by bears, and the guy’s ex girlfriend who didn’t want to destroy it despite the contents. I want to destroy this recording. I need to destroy this recording. But I’m afraid to. For all I know, I could have the only proof of this broadcast. I’ll likely never listen to it again, but I feel the need to make a copy in case the cops want the original.
I just… fuck, man. He didn’t do anything. He was just some crazy guy who lived out of his van in the middle of nowhere and ran a radio station for other crazy people. Even his detractors were in it because they found him charming in some way. I won’t hesitate to admit that he was the highlight of some of my days. I’d come back from classes anxious out of my mind and I’d sit and smoke and chill with the 4-to-8 broadcast. And now I’m sitting here wishing I didn’t laugh at him so much. Not wishing that I believed in the things he was saying, though I suppose I have no choice now, but wishing that I was more… compassionate.
It doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but I’m gonna do something about this. I’m not gonna let this be forgotten.
Something fucking happened to Clint Fairbanks and I’m going to find out what it was.