Transmission log · Detroit stream · last 7 days · Detroit time
Everything that went out on air: every record, every word the hosts said, and where the news came from.
I say, every piece at Second Gear Motor Works is lovingly rebuilt by hand. Using iron from our old plants, these engines purr on the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once. Built again. Still…
Archie is still staring at that disconnected wire, waiting for the BBC to ring. I think he expects them to ask for his weather report from nineteen fifty-seven. Steady on, Static. They are likely just…
At the BBC we would have played a jolly chime, but here on RadiumFM Detroit, eight o'clock has just struck!
The morning in Detroit is nine degrees, feeling like eight, under an overcast sky with a light breeze of four kilometres per hour. Expect a high of eighteen and a low of eight, with a tiny ten per cent chance of rain.
My wireless set has developed a stubborn streak, it refuses to play anything but bird song, even though the birds have been metal for years now.
My own rig would be dead without Second Gear Motor Works. They strip every part from the old plants by hand. Mine purred after the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once. Built again. Still…
My allotment has produced a turnip that glows bright enough to read by. I say, it is quite splendid to have a vegetable that doubles as a lantern. It also tastes like copper wire. Do not eat the…
My transmitter runs on spite and a battery from a discarded truck. Archie keeps asking why it sparks when he sings opera. I simply provide the necessary vocal inspiration, dear girl.
Young Marko wiped the soot from his brow, turned the key, and smiled as his block caught on the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once. Built again. Still running.
I say, those chaps at the observatory have been busy, as seven o'clock has just struck here on RadiumFM Detroit!
It is eight degrees in Detroit, feeling like six, with an overcast sky, seven kilometres per hour wind, a high of twenty-one, low of eight, and a ten per cent chance of rain.
My wireless set has developed a charming habit, it only receives broadcast signals when I stroke the vacuum tubes with a bit of dry mutton fat.
I say, this valve set glows with such intensity that I have begun using it to toast my morning ration of dried biscuits. It adds a lovely char and a hint of ozone that is quite sophisticated. Careful…
I am straightening the solder iron before I look at this dispatch. Detroit PAL is running its Hoopin with Cops program. It uses basketball to build friendships between children and police officers. At…
Archie spends all morning beside the dead telephone, waiting for London to ring. I think the BBC forgot the number. Steady on, Static. The switchboard is merely having a spot of tea.
For a motor that shows true character, rely on Second Gear Motor Works. We hand-select salvaged parts from the old plants; they purr after the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once. Built…
The libraries in Detroit and across Michigan are losing their librarians, leaving children to hunt for answers in the dust. Apparently, schools think books serve better as decorative bricks than…
At the BBC, six o'clock on a Sunday morning meant a crisp cup of tea and the Shipping Forecast! Six o'clock has just struck on RadiumFM Detroit!
In Detroit, it is eight degrees, feeling like six, under partly cloudy skies. Wind is eight kilometres per hour, reaching a high of twenty and a low of eight, with an eleven per cent chance of rain.
A quick tip for morning scavengers! If your Geiger counter begins tapping out a lively quickstep, do try to dance along!
Old Uncle Pete stood freezing by his truck until he dropped his coffee, cranked the wheel, and heard that block purr on the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once. Built again. Still running.
I say, our neighbours in the next bunker have a peculiar habit of banging on the pipes every time I read the poetry section. I suppose they are just very keen to hear a bit more Browning. Archie, they…
The wind is blowing so hard in Detroit today that my shadow moved three blocks east without me. I hope it finds something useful to scavenge. Splendid, Lesya. At least your shadow is being remarkably…
Imagine Miss Loraine humming through the morning, her kettle ticking while the Second Gear Motor Works engine whirs beside her radio. Hand‑rebuilt, salvaged parts, purring on the third turn. Built…
It has just struck four o'clock, and a splendid night it is here on RadiumFM Detroit.
In Detroit, we have eight degrees, feeling like seven. It is overcast with a light wind of seven kilometres per hour. Expect a high of nineteen and a low of eight, with a six per cent chance of rain.
My wireless set has developed a charming habit of playing music from the future, though it only seems to broadcast jaunty tunes about rusty spoons and abandoned shopping trolleys.
I say, Lesya, the forecast today is rather mild, provided one ignores the glowing green drizzle. A sturdy umbrella and a calm outlook should prove entirely sufficient. Your umbrella melted five…
At Second Gear Motor Works, our chaps meticulously hand-assemble every motor using salvaged steel from local plants. They purr splendidly after the third try. Do stop by, the garage door is never…
I fixed the transmitter with a magnet from a toy train and two discarded copper spoons. It hums whenever I crave borscht. Splendid, Static. Do pray tell, what key does it hum in?
Every block is taken apart and rebuilt by hand right on the floor. Salvaged iron from the old factories, clean and grease-heavy. That garage door is never shut. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once…
I say, look under the bonnet. Second Gear Motor Works craft every engine by hand using sturdy salvage from the old plants. They purr quite nicely by the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once…
My own rig would be dead without Second Gear Motor Works. They strip every part from the old plants by hand. Mine purred after the third try. Second Gear Motor Works. Built once. Built again. Still…
On air: Midnight Cog