baby zizanie

I would say they machine-gunned the audience at 93 Feet East with sound, but I've used that metaphor before. Maybe chemical or biological weapons is more suitable.

For an hour or so (definitely too short) the two fourty-somethings stood bent over the table of equipment -- Jim Thirlwell with an iBook, Jim Coleman a PowerBook, and various other boards and wires. Coleman's shoes off, his left socked-foot danced under the table. The two of them didn't communicate directly much, every-so-often only looking up from the machines with a smile to agree they were on.