After growing sick of New York radio, and to be able to hear Opie and Anthony again, I broke down and bought a Roady so I can listen to XM satellite radio in my car, a 1997 Saturn SL2. I elected to self-install the antenna and didn’t find much in the way of “how-to” information on the net. What follows is what I did. I’m not a professional, so follow at your own risk. Seriously. Messing around inside the center console of the Saturn has been known to do things like make the airbags spontaneously deploy. If this happens, depending on where your head is, it could conceivably kill you. I’m an not responsible for you hurting yourself. All I can say is that I did this with no problems.
You’ll need the following to follow these instructions:
- Size 15 Torx screwdriver or drill bit
- Black electrical tape
- Cutting tool (I used the scissors in my Swiss Army knife)
- Several hours
If you want to build a mounting block similar to the one that I did, you also may need:
- Miter saw
- Two or more medium screws (I used #6 x 5/8″ pan head philips)
- Dark (preferably black) felt with an adhesive back
- A drill with a bit slightly larger than the diameter of the screws, but not larger than the heads of the screws
- The swivel mounting bracket that came with your Roady
- A couple more hours
The antenna affixes to the car with a strong magnet, so one question non-Saturn owners might not quite get is “will the magnetic antenna stick to my car?” Unlike most cars, the Saturn’s skin plays no role whatsoever in maintaining the structural integrity of the vehicle. It’s basically just for show, so it is made of plastic. Good for stopping dents, not so good at sticking to magnets. Rest assured, however, that the hood, roof and trunk of the Saturn are metal, and the antenna sticks to them just fine.
The Roady has the ability to broadcast a weak FM signal through the XM antenna to your car radio, so that you don’t have to use the tape adapter and can just tune to one of 10 preset stations. New York radio is extremely saturated, so I wanted to get the XM antenna pretty close to the car’s FM antenna. The trick to this is to find a way to get the cable inside the car. Had I been more brave, I would have ran the antenna cable through the same hole the existing radio antenna uses. Unfortunately, this appears to require the removal of the right front fender. This looked like it might be doable, but I decided against it. Instead, I chose to run the antenna cable backward down the length of the car:
Start by attaching the magnet to the roof (the circle on the image above), then tuck the cable into the groove between the roof and the trim. As you thread this cable, leave a little wiggle room for the cable. As the seasons change, your car (and cable) will expand slightly in the heat and contract a bit in the cold, so if you thread the cable super-tight, it could snap. Continue down the groove until you reach the trunk (which you should open).
Lay the cable down the edge of the tuck (very loosely for now) until you reach the taillight. The tail light is your secret weapon here, because the bulbs inside are fed power from inside the car, and you are going to thread your antenna through the hole for the power cable. First you need to remove the cover of the taillight:
Use a size 15 Torx driver (the head looks like a star) to undo the two screws holding the taillight on. Once these are out, the light should just pull off. It might come loose while you work, so keep a hand on it.
On the body of the taillight, you should see how the power cord feeds into a plug on the light. You can unplug this, which prevents the light from dangling by its cable and gets it out of your way (the trunk is a good place for it in the interim).
In the housing of the light, you’ll see a rubber tube/plug sort of deal. The power feeds the light, while the rubber provides a seal to prevent water from getting inside the trunk. Black electrical tape surrounds the plug tube, which needs to be removed:
At this point, turn your attention back to the antenna cable. You should be able to find a gap through which the cable can be fed into the taillight housing:
Once through, you’ll note that the connector on the antenna cable is a bit too large to fit through the rubber cable seal. You will need to cut it a bit. Very carefully cut one side of the cylindrical part of the seal lengthwise. Take care to avoid cutting the tape around the cable within or, of course, the cable itself. Stop cutting once the cylinder part is mostly open; do not cut the “disk” part:
You should now have enough room in the seal to feed the silver part of the antenna plug into the hole. Reach around inside the trunk and find the other side of the seal. Push the antenna plug with one hand and pull with the other. This takes a little tinkering, but the seal is fairly elastic, so some force should get it through and poking out of the seal into the inside of the trunk:
Pull the carpet in the trunk back and pull most of the slack of the antenna cable through. Leave a bit of slack outside the car for now, just in case. The antenna cable is much longer than you need, so all of the excess will be bunched up in that little dip in the side of the trunk.
Go around to the back seat and fold down the right side seat. Reach into the trunk and get the antenna plug. If you look down onto where the seat back meets the body of the car, you can see (or feel, at least) that the seat back is connected to a piece of metal that sticks out slightly from the side. There is enough room to run the antenna cable on the outside of this plate. The idea here is to get the cable past the seat back in such a way that folding the seat up and down won’t crimp, rub or otherwise harm the cable. Improvise if you need to.
Once through, pull quite a bit of slack through. Eventually, you’ll tuck some of this into the seat and side, but for now leave it loose. Pull the cable between the front seat and the inside wall of the car, as close to the floor as possible. You will run the cable under the front seat but, since the seat can slide back and forth, you need to run the cable where it won’t get caught on anything. Fortunately, you can easily run the cable under the runners on which the seat moves.
The only real trick to this is that there is a big spring under the seat that could catch the cable. Fortunately, there is a black plastic mesh around part of this spring:
Eventually, you will tape the cable to this mesh with black electrical tape, so that it always stays outside the spring; however, you need to see how much slack you will have left in the cable, so don’t do this yet. Instead, find the panel on the passenger side of the center console. It has an indentation marked “pull”. Pull it to remove the panel. This exposes the fuses, but more importantly gives you a place to run antenna cable.
You should be able to thread the cable so that it comes out of the center panel right where the cigarette lighter is. Since you’ll be powering the Roady with the lighter, you can twist the power and antenna cables together to feed the Roady.
At this point, you’ll need to think about how and where you want to mount the Roady. I have the type of stereo that has a strange shelf-like thing under the tape deck, so crafted a mounting block that slides into this space (see below). If you want to do something different, you are on your own. Just make sure you leave enough antenna cable to reach the Roady.
Once you have figured out how much extra cable to leave hanging out of the console, run backwards along the antenna cable tucking the cable in. The idea is to eventually push all the slack back into the trunk, where the excess cable can be looped and stashed in the corner.
Replace the electrical panel. Under the front seat, tape the cable to the mesh around the spring. Tuck the cable underneath the plastic siding around the floor of the backseat, then up the back side of the seat and into the seam. Once in the trunk, loop up all the extra, tuck the loop away and replace the carpet.
Going back to the taillight, wrap black electrical tape around the cylinder of the seal that you cut open previously. You might want to use a few layers and make sure that all holes in the rubber are covered:
Reconnect the taillight plug, mount the light, and screw it back in. Your antenna is now ready.
If you want to mount your Roady like I did, make sure you have a Saturn with the hole/shelf thing below the stereo (if you don’t have this, you’ll need to find your own way). You will be constructing a block of wood that fits snugly into this shelf, then screwing the Roady’s mounting bracket into this wood. This holds the Roady securely, and in a good spot for tuning, all without making holes in your car. Assemble the materials mentioned at the top of this article:
On the wood block, measure off a piece slightly narrower than the Roady’s mounting bracket. You are going to use the back of the bracket as a “lip” that slaps right against the hole of the shelf, where the bracket is entirely outside the hole, with the wood block entirely inside. Don’t worry about about the height or depth of the block right now, just get the width right.
The hole/shelf has a taper to it, narrowing towards the engine, so you need to cut the block to match. Set your miter saw to about 3° and skim the top off the length of the block:
Your wedge may be a bit too thick to fit into the hole, so you might need to cut off some of the fatter end. Measure the height of the hole. On the tapered side of your block, find a point that is almost as wide as the hole. Mark that line, then cut the fatter end of the wedge off at that point.
Drill some pilot holes in the bottom of the Roady’s mounting bracket and screw the bracket into the fat end of the wood. Try to get the bottom of the bracket as level as possible with the block.
Your block may be too long at this point, but don’t measure yet. Instead, cover the block with adhesive felt. This gives the wood a bit of grip when put into the hole, prevents scratches and looks slightly better. Don’t worry about covering the back end for now.
Now fit the wedge into the hole. It will most likely stick out a bit. Start cutting bits off of the narrow end and refit into the hole. Repeat until the “lip” of the bracket fits snug against the edge of the hole. You can cover the back with felt if you want. It should look something like this (but less blurry, unless you’ve been hitting the margaritas while working):
Now mount the Roady on the bracket, plug in the power and antenna, and you are ready to go.
After over a decade of being kept alive with technology — possibly against her will — Terri Schiavo is dead. I’d like to be able to say that she died with dignity but, unfortunately, the legalistic, religious and hypocritical furor surrounding her death left very little room for anything dignified.
I’ve been thinking about how to think about the events surrounding Mrs. Schiavo’s death, which provide quite a bit to ponder. Mainly, I’ve been wondering about who, of all involved, can be considered to be acting morally. One possible way of examining this is to subject the people involved into hypothetical situations and see where it takes you.
Suppose I’m a District Attorney. Based on the suggestion that Mrs. Schiavo requested not to be kept alive artificially, suppose I accuse her family of sustained and repeated torture of their daughter, taking calculated and extreme measures to artificially maintain what I (as DA) call “an unpleasant, hopeless existence” in accordance with their own wishes and opposed to hers.
Granted, this is a hypothetical situation about law, not morality, but let’s see where it takes us. As I see it, the family has only two possible legal defenses against such a charge.
The first defense would be to say that the claim that Mrs. Schiavo requested not to be kept alive artificially is false. Unfortunately for the family, regardless of whether or not you personally believe that Mrs. Schiavo truly wished to avoid being kept alive by machines, the court system believes this past all point of appeal. So, from a legal standpoint, this defense would not keep the family out of jail for torture.
The only other defense the family could mount against a torture charge is that Mrs. Schiavo is not aware enough to register pain or pleasure and, therefore, cannot be truly tortured. Whether or not this defense would keep the family out of jail isn’t that relevant to me. What matters is that, to even mount such a defense, the family would have to embrace the idea that they have been fighting against.
To me, this indicates that the family doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on. Further, it suggests their moral stance is on fairly shaky ground as well.
Inspired by a new way of formatting music, this is a representation of Tool’s Ænema (some links not work safe):
- Some say:
- Things I could use a vacation from:
- Los Angeles:
- Things for you to do:
- Things to fret about:
- Mother Nature will:
- Things I’m praying for:
- Things I want to see:
- Things I can’t imagine, my friend:
Imagine you rule hell. Long, long ago, you were asked (by, perhaps, another pantheon) to severely punish this Greek punk that betrayed the gods and captured the god of death. Since this punk, Sisyphus, was so industrious, you put him to work pushing a boulder up a steep hill. But just when the boulder approaches to the top, it rolls all the way back down the hill. You compel Sisyphus to always want to get the boulder to the top, making him labor for eternity.
While initially quite pleased with this punishment, eventually the novelty wears off and you spot some problems with it. For one thing, planting the compulsion to push the rock leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It seems… artificial somehow. For another, after a while you notice that Sisyphus seems to accept his fate. He makes peace with the fact he’s going to push the boulder forever and, to your shame, takes some comfort in that knowledge.
You forget about this until thousands of years later, when a more insidious punishment stikes you. It would still have the endless toil aspect (of which you are so fond), but with the following differences:
- You would trick people into actually volunteering for the punishment by making it sound pleasant. Ideally, they would pay for the privilege.
- The volunteers would seem to accomplish goals but, in fact, their actions would have no real consequence and, in most cases, would reset to be “accomplished” by the next volunteer. This prevents them from coming to grips with their punishments for much longer.
- The illusion of accomplishment would be strengthened by allowing the volunteers to brag and “help” each other, but even en masse, volunteers would have no actual ability to change anything.
- Failure (often accompanied by hideous, painful death) would be punished solely by the offer of resurrection, tricking the recently dead to volunteer again for the task, over and over if need be. Volunteers would not find this odd.
- At some arbitrary point, cut off their advancement so that they no longer have the crutch of getting better when they “accomplish” something, but allow them to either continue anyway (perhaps by meddling with other volunteers), or start all over again in some other form.
The end result punishes the wicked in a far more insidious way. They register that they are being punished on only a subconscious level. Their ignorance brings them a certain amount of bliss but, deep down, realize that they are just as useless as Sisyphus. They are toys for your amusement.
They are, in short, characters in World of Warcraft.
What other explanation would your tauren shaman have for sleeping for days at a time, only to wake up to be killed over and over, then sleep again? How else can your troll warlock rationalize the centaur invasion that he just singlehandedly repelled coming back twenty minutes later like it never happened? Why else would the meager vein of tin your gnome picked bare disappear, only to reappear hours later? They’re all in hell, they just don’t know it.
In any case, a MMORPG that actually embraced the idea that its characters are running the gerbil wheel of an afterlife, rather than just resurrect them continually without explanation, could be fascinating. You might even base it somewhat on the old Sierra game Afterlife, with its virtues and sins. Or perhaps theme it around a war between heaven and hell, where the players can be angels or demons. Maybe they can be (or, perhaps, must be) mortals until the first time they die, and their actions as mortals dictate on what side of the war they find themselves and how much power they start with.
Several days after my previous brief mention of Nostradamus, NPR broadcast a story about Mahmoud Abbas. While listening to it, I was still in a prognostication frame of mind and put together some Nostradamus writing with Mr. Abbas.
I don’t put a lot of stock in Nostradamus, but one prediction that seemed to go beyond coincidence is the use of the name “Hister” in relation to a prophesy of a certain German dictator. Nostradamus didn’t use proper names that often, so it’s not like he threw a bunch of names into his quatrains and just happened to get lucky here. He did, however, use another proper name once, allegedly in reference to his “third antichrist”: Mabus.
When listening to the story, I realized it is not much of a leap from “Mahmoud Abbas” to “M. Abbas” to “Mabus”. Foolishly thinking I might be onto something, I googled for “Mahmoud Mabus” and, naturally, got a bunch of hits from Nostradamus fanatics who figured this out a long time ago.
Unfortunately, most of these brains seem to completely ignore what Nostradamus actually wrote. While I have a more or less pluralist view of different belief systems (all belief systems, including mine, are equally useless), it bugs me when people completely ignore the rules of whatever belief system they claim to follow. If you are someone who claims to run your life by following the Anasazi Oracle, that’s great, so long as you actually follow that oracle’s rules.
What Nostradamus wrote about Mabus was this (Century II, Quatrain 62)
Mabus puis tost alors mourra, viendra,
De gens & bestes vne horrible defaite:
Puuis tout à coup la vengeance on verra,
Cent, main, soif, faim, quand courra la comete.
…which means (as translated by John Hogue):
Mabus will soon die, then will come,
A horrible undoing of people and animals,
At once one will see vengeance,
One hundred powers, thirst, famine, when the comet will pass.
This seems to be a pretty clear prediction that someone named “Mabus” will get killed, then a bunch of bad things will happen immediately after. That’s it. For some reason, however, most of the Nostradamus “scholars” out there will go on at great length about how Mabus is the third antichrist and speculate about who he is, in spite of the fact that the above prophesy says nothing of the kind. It is just as likely that the third antichrist kills Mabus. You can’t tell from this prophesy.
An entire belief system seems to have deluded itself by completely ignoring the rules of the system in which they claim to believe (rules like “pay attention to what the prophet actually said”). There have even been TV shows based on the idea that Mabus is the antichrist when there seems to be no foundation for this idea within Nostradamus’ work.
I’m sure at least one Nostradamus fanatic will point out the error of my ways. (Someone will also no doubt point out that if you hold “Mabus” up to a mirror, you get a good approximation of “Saddam”.) I’d also love to hear from anyone who has references to what people before 1900 A.D. thought Mabus meant.
In any case, if Nostradamus is to be believed and if Mahmoud Abbas really is Mabus, sounds like his impending wacking will ignite quite the powder keg. I predict it will also ignite a wave of “we told you sos” from the Nostradamus faithful and at least one TV special, probably on Fox.
A digression from my usual posting style and the start of my descent into a self-obsessed wasteland, inspired by Dr. Vikingzen.
Ten things I’ve done that you probably haven’t
- Suffered second degree sunburns on the backs of my ears.
- Received a letter from Steve Wynn correctly criticizing my archetectural theories.
- Sang in front of hundreds of people dressed as a monk, complete with “shaved head” wig.
- Acted as the corporate voice for Jack Hunter Ford (age 10).
- Sat behind Alexander Solzhenitsyn for several hours in Harvard Yard.
- Drank a toast to large-breasted women with the guy who wrote the theme song to Silver Spoons.
- Witnessed a Blue Man completely break character to greet my father.
- Shared an elevator with several obviously armed Secret Service agents assigned to guard then Vice President George Bush.
- Illegally entered, and drove the full length of, a (then active) United States miliary base. With my mother in the car.
- Received a scolding for staging a fake fight on an elementary school playground, in front of a church (fifth grade).