Regress #14: Eyjafjallajokull This

An Open Letter to Icelandic Supreme Archduke Olafur Ragnar Grimsson:

Look, Your Excellency, I don't claim to be some sort of roguish, devil-may-care geologist by day/high-priced male escort by night.

But I'm pretty sure that your almond-rich, economic mega-power could do something about its historically flatulent volcano if it saw fit.

Is this about unsettled anger over Gordon Bombay, Esquire's Mighty Ducks raining hockey excellence all over the seismically overrated Iceland junior hockey team? Because if it is, just know that they did the same thing two years later to the insufferable rich kids of Eden Hall Academy--and the snooty prep school knobs didn't set a doomsday geologic event in motion.

They did a quick line of blow and went back to building up a seething hatred of their flinty, alcoholic mothers. Perhaps you should do the same.

People have been stranded in some of Europe's finer airports for over four days. It's a budding humanitarian crises of biblical proportion that you could stop with the simple click of that Magma-Tron there to the left by your Sumatran concubine.

Put down your bejeweled Scepter of Wrath and do the right thing for mankind--turn off your damn volcano.  Just like Tommy Lee Jones did.

With Authority,
Denny DelVecchio