Painting a bright line

I'm not sure what most people listen to on their way to church. Faced with choosing something, we went implemented a heuristic process (we guessed a lot) to stop the whining and best impressions of 'tooth for a tooth' cosa nostra-style paybacks for imagined slights like looking-at-me, won't-quit-singing, and kicking-my-seat.

Local Catholic radio had no effect; it seemed to enrage the subjects with its talk radio banter. Classical music also failed to tame the enraged Nibelungen. Like snakes they continued to lunge at one another, teeth bared. Instead of mesmerized tongue flicking at the radio, they spat venom at the pseudo-religious organ music. Other radio options proved only partially effective as a sedative. The commercials were too frequent and vapid to keep the fur from flying.

We turned to CDs. The CD changer buttons were pressed. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. Wait! What is that sound? Are they... rocking out? They are. I see hair fluttering and hands slapping knees in percussive measures. The White Stripes' album Get Behind Me Satan is asked for, nay demanded by the forces of darkness indwelling in the domain, called for convenience, "the back seat".

So, at an unsafe decibel level, we drive to church singing and enjoying the tracks from the album. In preparation for the expected loss of efficacy associated with continued drug usage, I have already purchased Icky Thump from iTunes and will burn a CD sometime this week.