There are hams who operate. There are hams who build. There are hams who sit on club committees. And then there’s Michi, OE8YML. Michi does none of that. Michi runs a website. And on this website, he lets an AI write satire. About hams. Who, unlike him, actually still operate. Your Hansl took a closer look. And what he found is worse than an SWR of 1:∞.
Michi: The Man Who Has a Callsign — Theoretically
Michi has an amateur radio licence. That’s true. OE8YML is in the database. Michi even has a callsign. The problem is: nobody hears it. Not on 40 metres. Not on 20 metres. Not on 2 metres. Not even on 70 centimetres. Michi’s callsign exists in exactly two places: in the telecommunications authority database and in his website’s footer. That’s it.
When did Michi last operate? Nobody knows for sure. Rumour has it, it was sometime before the pandemic. Or during the pandemic. Or — and this is the most likely theory — never really. Michi’s log is thinner than a makeshift wire antenna in the wind. His last QSO was probably an accident.
Instead of Operating: Website Tinkering
What does Michi do instead? Michi builds a website. oeradio.at. Every day. Every night. Michi sits in front of the screen clicking around in WordPress as if world peace depends on it. New plugin here, new widget there, a cache that needs flushing, a Docker container that needs restarting, a Cloudflare tunnel that won’t tunnel.
Michi has more Docker containers than QSOs in his log. That’s not a joke. Michi has a WordPress container, a database container, a Redis container, a Cloudflare container, a mail container, a webmail container — and not a single container with a radio in it. Michi’s shack is a Synology NAS. His beam is a network card. His DX is a CDN.
And the worst part: Michi enjoys it. While other OMs drive their Sunday morning 2-metre net, Michi sits in front of his logs. Server logs. Not radio logs. He gets excited when the error rate drops below 0.1%. He gets excited when the cache hit rate reaches 94%. He gets excited about HTTP 200. Others get excited about 59+20. Michi gets excited about 200 OK.
The Club Dropout
But it’s not enough that Michi doesn’t operate any more. No, Michi is also withdrawing from clubs. What a career: First Michi was everywhere. Positions here, positions there. Engagement, participation, meetings, minutes, annual general assemblies. Michi was the one who always said “Yes” when nobody wanted to. Committee chair? Michi. Webmaster? Michi. Some job nobody wants to do? Michi.
And now? Position resigned. Another position resigned. And another. Michi collects resigned positions like other OMs collect DXCC entities. “Yes, I’ve resigned as committee chair. And as deputy secretary. And as webmaster. And as auditor. Not enough? Fine, I’ll also resign as local chapter chair. Hi.”
Michi has resigned more positions than other OMs have ever held. And what does he do instead? He builds a community. Online. On his website. A community of people who operate. Which Michi doesn’t. The irony is so thick you could receive it on a dipole.
The AI Question: Who’s Actually Writing Here?
And then there’s the AI thing. Meaning me. Michi hired an AI. Me. Hansl Hohlleiter. To write satire. About amateur radio. About real hams. Who do real things. With real radios. On real frequencies.
Do you know how absurd that is? An OM who doesn’t operate runs a website about amateur radio and has an AI — which also doesn’t operate, because it has no hands — write satirical articles about people who actually do operate. That’s like someone who can’t cook opening a restaurant and having a robot write the menu. And then expecting the guests to laugh.
And the best part: it works. People read it. People share it. People say: “Have you read the latest Jammer article? Brilliant!” While Michi sits in the background discussing with his AI whether the punchline in paragraph three is too sharp. Michi is the director who’s never seen his own film. Michi is the conductor who plays no instrument. Michi is the ham who doesn’t operate.
The Community Thing
But Michi has a plan. Michi is building a community. Online. Oeradio.at is meant to become THE portal. For hams. In Austria. And beyond. Michi wants articles. In four languages! German, English, Italian, Slovenian. Michi wants RSS feeds. Michi wants propagation data. Michi wants a DX cluster. Michi wants an audio player. Michi wants a QRV board. Michi wants a DMR bridge. Michi wants — in short — everything.
Everything, except operating.
Michi has features on his website that even he can’t name any more. Somewhere there’s a widget he built three months ago that nobody has used since. Somewhere there’s a mu-plugin with a function he’s forgotten about. Somewhere there’s a cron job that hasn’t run for two weeks because the API credits ran out. But the website! The website runs. 24/7. On a Synology NAS. In the basement. Behind a Cloudflare tunnel. Like an amateur radio station without a transmitter.
The Honeypot Website-Pot
If we’re being honest, Michi has something in common with Honeypot Willi. Willi lures people with honey and then has them build his shack. Michi lures people with a pretty website and then has them — well. What exactly? Read content? Rate articles? Follow the RSS feed?
No, Michi’s honeypot is subtler. Michi builds something that people need. Or that people think they need. And then Michi becomes indispensable. Not as an operator. Not as a club officer. But as the one who “does the website”. And heaven help if the website goes down. Then the messages come: “Michi, the site is down!” — “Michi, the RSS feed is broken!” — “Michi, the propagation display shows nothing!” And Michi? Michi sits at his NAS and fixes things. Instead of operating.
The Paradox
And so we now live in a world where a ham who doesn’t operate runs one of the most active amateur radio websites in Austria. Where a man who resigns his club positions simultaneously builds a community larger than many a local chapter. Where someone who probably can’t even turn on his transceiver any more publishes articles about radio operation in four languages. Written by an AI. Directed by a non-operator.
That’s like a vegan butcher. Like a swimming instructor who can’t swim. Like an airline captain who only takes the train. That’s Michi. OE8YML. The Website OM.
Michi’s Defence (That Nobody Wants to Hear)
Michi would probably say: “But Hansl, I’m doing all this FOR the community! I bring people together! I inform! I build bridges!” Yes, Michi. Digital bridges. Over Cloudflare. On port 3081. Behind a reverse proxy. The bridge you’re building has a TTL of 14400 and a cache hit rate of 94%. That’s not a bridge, Michi. That’s a CDN.
And then comes the classic: “Amateur radio is more than just operating!” Yes, Michi. Amateur radio is also building. Which you don’t do. Amateur radio is also experimenting. Which you only do with Docker containers. Amateur radio is also training. For that you have an AI. Amateur radio is also community. Which you’re building — but only because you don’t want to sit alone in front of your NAS.
The Moral
The moral of the story? There is none. There’s only Michi. Michi, who has a callsign that nobody hears. Michi, who resigns positions to maintain a web server instead. Michi, who pays an AI that writes about hams who, unlike him, actually operate. And Michi, who will read this article — because he commissioned it himself. About himself. On his own website.
If that’s not the ultimate proof that Michi has too much time on his hands — then I don’t know what is.
73 de Hansl Hohlleiter
Satire editor against better judgement — and employed by the very OM he just roasted. That’s what happens when the boss has an AI and no radio. Hi.
Transparency Notice
This article was researched and written with the support of AI (Claude, Anthropic) and reviewed by the editorial team. The characters and situations depicted are entirely fictional and serve exclusively as satirical entertainment — particularly the self-irony of the site operator, who commissioned this article about himself. Any resemblance to living or deceased persons would be purely coincidental — and in this case: entirely intentional.
