Alex Dickow, a friend of mine at New-Poetry, posted a link there to the following. Upon visiting the site, I immediately deemed it of sufficient importance to steal in totum for here:
About the Journal | Instructions for Authors | Subscriptions | Archives
Editor-in-Chief: Caleb Emmons
About the Journal The founding principle of the Journal of Universal Rejection (JofUR) is rejection. Universal rejection. That is to say, all submissions, regardless of quality, will be rejected. Despite that apparent drawback, here are a number of reasons you may choose to submit to the JofUR:
You can send your manuscript here without suffering waves of anxiety regarding the eventual fate of your submission. You know with 100% certainty that it will not be accepted for publication.
There are no page-fees.
You may claim to have submitted to the most prestigious journal (judged by acceptance rate).
The JofUR is one-of-a-kind. Merely submitting work to it may be considered a badge of honor.
You retain complete rights to your work, and are free to resubmit to other journals even before our review process is complete.
Decisions are often (though not always) rendered within hours of submission.
Instructions for Authors The JofUR solicits any and all types of manuscript: poetry, prose, visual art, and research articles. You name it, we take it, and reject it. Your manuscript may be formatted however you wish. Frankly, we don’t care.
After submitting your work, the decision process varies. Often the Editor-in-Chief will reject your work out-of-hand, without even reading it! However, he might read it. Probably he’ll skim. At other times your manuscript may be sent to anonymous referees. Unless they are the Editor-in-Chief’s wife or graduate school buddies, it is unlikely that the referees will even understand what is going on. Rejection will follow as swiftly as a bird dropping from a great height after being struck by a stone. At other times, rejection may languish like your email buried in the Editor-in-Chief’s inbox. But it will come, swift or slow, as surely as death. Rejection.
Submissions should be emailed to the Editor-in-Chief. Small files only, please. Why not just send the first couple pages if it is long?
Subscriptions An individual subscription may be secured for £120 per year (four issues). Institutional and library subscriptions are also available; prices will be provided upon enquiry. It is unknown whether the subscription will be delivered in print or as electronic content, because no one has yet ordered one.
Archives
March 2009 (Vol 1, No 1) contents:
(empty)
June 2009 (Vol 1, No 2) contents:
(empty)
September 2009 (Vol 1, No 3) contents:
(empty)
December 2009 (Vol 1, No 4) contents:
(empty – because we were on holiday)
March 2010 (Vol 2, No 1) contents:
(empty)
June 2010 (Vol 2, No 2) contents:
(empty)
Disclaimer: Pacific University does not endorse—and is probably unaware of—this journal
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Note (from Bob): I’m feeling a little bit less unhappy about being A Colossal Universal Incompetent, at least enough to feel I may continue posting daily entries here. Warning: I expect them to be almost entirely concerned with knowlecular psychology and its taxonomical basis for a while. Oh, and for those planning biographies of me, you need to know that I actually did spend an hour or so attacking the untidiness of my house. What I did specifically was remove over twenty shirts with collars that were hanging in my bedroom closet and toss them in a large cardboard box on the bed I now consider my storage room. It used to be the cats’ room. It’s the largest bedroom in the place, with bath, now a storage closet. I also put aside four shirts with collars to give to Good Will. I suspect most men would throw them out but I’d wear them if it weren’t that I now rarely have any reason, like having a substitute teaching assignment, to wear shirts with collars, and I’ve never liked such shirts. I should no doubt give away the twenty shirts I tossed in the box, too, but I’m too much of a pack rat to do that–at least right now.
My ten or twelve best collared shirts are now all hanging in the closet here in my computer room (formerly a bedroom). For weddings and funerals, stuff like that. Once I’d cleared out all the collared shirts from my bedroom closet, I was able to hang up the many collarless shirts scattered through the house. While at it, I hung my jacket and overcoat in my hall closet where they belong but rarely are–because, hey, pulling out a hanger, putting a coat on it, and the hanging it up seems like way too much trouble compared to just tossing them on a chair.
The house is a lot less cluttered, albeit still cluttered. I hope to get rid of some books I’ve never read and never will, although I’ll be amazed if I do. I need to get rid of my non-functioning Xerox, too. I’m not sure whether or not it could be repaired but am sure the cost of repairing it, if possible, would not be worth it. My little computer printer can do just about as good a job.
This entry was posted on Sunday, January 23rd, 2011 at 12:00 AM and is filed under Autobiographica, Humor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
It’s obviously not a haiku because there’s no season word. Unless it’s implied when the reader falls for it. ha ha ha ha ha.
– endwar
umph.