Cities and similar places provide numerous benefits, but these are also balanced with several drawbacks. One such issue is the debris, dislocation, and noise caused by periodic construction, repair, and maintenance of buildings, structures, and utilities.
Less acknowledged amongst these externalities is the spray painting done to identify underground utilities.
These assorted blue, orange, green, and red lines, squiggles, and symbols spray-painted on sidewalks, curbs, and streets are essential for safe construction practices and infrastructure maintenance. However, they are done long before construction and sometimes remain long after their purpose has been fulfilled, creating visual clutter in urban spaces.
Utility marking workers, easily identified by their orange safety vests, often apply the paint carelessly. They might reason that it’s not their neighborhood and municipalities have given them free rein to paint wherever they please.
Meanwhile, since their emergence half a century ago, unsanctioned graffiti and street art (mainly in urban areas) have often been vilified, while utility markings—go largely unnoticed.
By contrast, graffiti (and street art) is frequently abated (painted over or removed) and condemned as vandalism, even when it showcases artistic talent, offers cultural or social commentary, and is generally tolerated by residents.
This double standard reveals a bias: utility markings, sanctioned by authorities, are tolerated, while graffiti and street art, perceived as unsanctioned, are dismissed.
What if utility companies adopt less invasive methods, such as biodegradable chalk, or commit to removing markings promptly after construction ends? And couldn’t we, as a society, reconsider graffiti—not as a blemish but as a potential enhancement to the urban landscape?
By reconsidering these double standards, we might find ways to balance utility and artistry, fostering a more equitable and vibrant visual landscape.
Photo Credit: Utility Markings in Wahington, DC/
Photographer: Jeffrey Ian Ross
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_7073-scaled-e1736056508836.jpg19202295Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-01-05 06:28:592025-01-05 06:28:59Rethinking Utility Markings in Urban Public Spaces
Over the past year at “Ross Industries,” we’ve stayed committed to publishing a weekly blog, trying to produce thoughtful (and occasionally humorous) commentary on topics that resonate with both my readers and me. While I consistently evaluate and refine the blog throughout the year, the last week of December is a time for deeper reflection and planning. This involves reviewing which posts connected most with readers—and which didn’t—often with surprising results. Posts I anticipated would resonate sometimes fell short, while those written on a whim occasionally exceeded my expectations.
The ubiquity of iPhones (with camera and video technology) has led to almost everyone and everything becoming a subject for social media posts. But what makes a good photo of graffiti and street art? After spending considerable time writing and photographing graffiti and street art, I thought sharing some of my decisions when photographing this kind of urban visual material might be helpful. This blog post explores these ideas in greater detail.
This seminal book, which shaped my early scholarship (i.e., Dynamics of Political Crime (2002) and An Introduction to Political Crime (2012), serves as a model of intellectual rigor and clarity. Drawing on scholarship in criminology, political violence, and conflict theory, Political Criminality (1982) explores the relationship among power, political deviance, and the state’s response to threats to its authority. Turk’s conflict-based theory of political crime centers on the idea that power is rooted in controlling resources, with the legal and criminal justice systems used as tools to maintain social and political dominance. To achieve this goal, the state criminalizes dissent to suppress challenges and shape public opinion. The book also examines a broad spectrum of political defiance, from assassinations to wars. Despite its deep theoretical content, the book is highly accessible to readers.
This blog, originally published on the Transforming Society Blog Website (part of Bristol University Press), outlines the rationale for and introduces my latest book, Introduction to Convict Criminology. In December 2024, CHOICE Editors selected the book as one of their top ten titles for the month, representing the best across various disciplines. In short, the Convict Criminology (CC) approach and practice, which has existed for nearly three decades, is built upon three main initiatives: scholarship, activism/mentorship, and advocacy. Its primary aim is to acknowledge and enable the voices and experiences of incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals in criminological and criminal justice scholarship. This movement recognizes how lived experience can reshape the study of corrections, criminology, and criminal justice. The recently published Introduction to Convict Criminology consolidates the field’s scholarship, tracing its history, accomplishments, and transformative impact on individuals, corrections, and the criminal justice system.
Have you ever wondered if there are particular types of clothing that people in certain professions wear? This blog post, released later in the year, outlined some of my observations and a tongue-in-cheek commentary on the role of clothing in academia with a special focus on the criminology/criminal justice field. Like in our relationships with others, some of us are more conscious than others about what we wear, when we wear it, and its impact.
Analyzing significant books, films, and music helps me better understand creative works, especially why I like or dislike them. Scholarship on graffiti and street art varies widely in quality. While my Routledge Handbook of Graffiti and Street Art(2019) offers a comprehensive overview, this post highlights what I consider the best academic books on graffiti. These works are indispensable resources for those interested in understanding this subject in greater depth.
I’m often asked by students and fellow criminologists what topics in my field I think where there is a demand for research. It’s only natural. People don’t want to waste their resources (usually time and money) conducting research, writing up their findings, and maybe even getting it published without it having any impact. So, it is essential to get it right from the beginning. But this process is not without numerous caveats, including the fact that just because something is “hot” does not mean that you are interested in the topic and that it can sustain you. Imagine slogging through interviews, gathering data, and testing it, when you’d rather watch re-runs of The Wire or some other mindless activity that gives you pleasure.
Language is important. It helps us communicate with others. But people and organizations often use the wrong words. Words have meanings that are not always shared. We don’t walk around with dictionaries constantly consulting them to see if what others just said makes sense. Many words are demeaning, and every sphere of life has its own. However, the criminology and criminal justice fields have unique words for the individuals who commit crimes and those who work for criminal justice agencies.
From Muddy Waters to Jimi Hendrix, I’ve always enjoyed the blues, but writing about music on my blog is a departure. (Fun fact: several years ago, my wife and children suggested I start a music blog, so now they’re somewhat vindicated.) Although I’ve never successfully played an instrument and struggled with reading sheet music, music has always been a creative force in my life. I love live performances, the complexity of songs, and their delivery. For all sorts of reasons, I listen to music for nearly sixteen hours a day, so it’s only natural that I would be discerning about what I expose my ears to.
Those who know me well understand that I’m not particularly fond of language politics. I’m not suggesting that language doesn’t matter—on the contrary, I recognize that the words and labels we use can significantly impact us. When the Convict Criminology (CC) approach and practice started, we quickly noticed the demeaning language often used to describe people with criminal convictions and those currently incarcerated. At the same time, we championed the idea that it’s not for others to decide how we define ourselves. Within the CC praxis, there are differing views on language. Some embrace terms like “convict,” “inmate,” or “prisoner,” seeing them as a way to reclaim identity and challenge stigmas. Others, influenced perhaps by liberal or politically correct perspectives, push to change the language as if doing so will magically improve the lives of those behind bars or those impacted by the justice system. I disagree with this approach. Changing the terms doesn’t necessarily equate to meaningful change in the lives of justice-involved individuals, nor is it the first step in a more significant transformation. Everyone has the right to choose how they are called; that autonomy should be respected. But I find the overemphasis on changing labels without addressing the deeper issues at play misguided. It’s not the language that’s the problem—it’s the systems that sustain the inequalities we see.
This post garnered the most attention this year. The educational and professional backgrounds of the people who work in your workplace shape the working culture of numerous jobs. In academic environments, this can include what subjects they emphasize and which ones they avoid. It also consists of the expectations of our students. In this piece, I look at the infamous “challenge” of working in and for academic jobs at the so-called “cop shop” criminology departments, where a disproportionate number of the professors and instructors are former (or current criminal justice practitioners). In many respects, I also instill this commentary with a bit of realism that this label may be used unfairly and that cop shop departments may also be decent places to work.
Thinking about 2025
As 2024 winds down, I find myself reflecting on key questions that guide my work:
What topics should I tackle next?
How can I approach these challenges more effectively?
What insights resonate most with my readers?
How can I help you better navigate and understand this crazy world?
Should I post more often or dive deeper into fewer, more substantive pieces?
These items shape the content I produce and the projects I select to work on.
Looking ahead to 2025, I’m excited about new plans and ideas already in motion.
While I’ll keep the details private for now, I promise they will build on everything I’ve learned this past year and those that preceded it.
Meanwhile, I want to express my heartfelt thanks to everyone who has supported my work, whether by reading, sharing, or offering constructive feedback.
You make this journey deeply rewarding, and your input continues shaping my work.
As we enter the new year, I encourage you to stay curious, reflect often, and share your creative or scholarly work with the world.
At ‘Ross Industries,’ we’re calling it a wrap and punching out for the year. Here’s to a productive and inspiring 2025!
Photo Credit
Title: First shift of miners at the Virginia Pocahontas Cool company mine near Richland, Virginia, leaving the elevator (1974)
Photographer: Jack Corn
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/FIRST_SHIFT_OF_MINERS_AT_THE_VIRGINIA-POCAHONTAS_COAL_COMPANY_MINE__4_NEAR_RICHLANDS_VIRGINIA_LEAVING_THE_ELEVATOR._-_NARA_-_556393_tweaked-scaled.jpg16942560Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2024-12-29 13:46:362024-12-29 14:07:522024: The Year in Review—Surprises, Lessons, & a Few Doozies
(a revised version of a series of tweets that I originally posted on Twitter (X) December 2019)
Reviewing papers for scholarly journals is an essential, unpaid service that many academics perform. But the process often raises lots of frustrations and unanswered questions. Meanwhile, unless they still have exams to evaluate and final grades to submit, the Christmas break is when many university instructors and professors attempt to fulfill their promises to review papers—or find themselves pressed into service to do so.
In the spirit of the famous Christmas carol, I bring you, “The Twelve Days of Scholarly Peer Review.”
On the 1st day of Christmas, a highly respected scholar-editor from a top-ranked journal invites you to peer review a paper perfectly aligned with your hyper-specialized expertise—but without specifying a due date.
On the 2nd day of Christmas, after you agree to review the paper, the editor informs you that the review is due in two weeks.
On the 3rd day of Christmas, you open the manuscript, only to discover that it’s riddled with track changes edits.
On the 4th day of Christmas, as you continue reviewing the paper, you realize not only is the manuscript filled with track changes, but the author(s)’ names are still visible—violating the blind review component of the process.
On the 5th day of Christmas, frustrated by the lack of response from the editor to your concerns, you e-mail the journal’s editorial office again. You then spend an hour tracking down the editor’s university contact information, only to get an out-of-office reply. A phone call to the office yields no answer, so you leave a voicemail and add “find better things to do with my life” to your New Year’s resolutions.
On the 6th day of Christmas, you realize the author(s) have lifted significant portions from your seminal article, “The Mating Behavior of the Tsetse Fly in Africa During the 17th Century.” You spend the next 24 hours mentally rehearsing how to frame your indignation (but with a professional tone). You briefly consider writing a strongly worded letter to the editor about academic malfeasance.
On the 7th day of Christmas, despite ignoring your previous e-mails and voicemail, you receive an e-mail from the editor remindering you that the review is due in one week. You stare at the e-mail and wonder if they’ve mistaken you for an unpaid intern.
On the 8th day of Christmas, after the kids, your spouse, and the dog are finally asleep, and despite being exhausted, you spend two hours drafting the review—motivated by guilt, professional integrity, and a misguided belief that this will somehow benefit your career. You add “start a blog about academic labor” to your to-do list.
On the 9th day of Christmas, you re-open the manuscript to double-check your critique before submission. To your dismay, you discover three additional flaws. You spend an extra hour revising your review, muttering a stream of academic-appropriate curses like, “This methodology is untenable,” and “Not clear if this study was approved by an IRB?” Finally, you submit it.
On the 10th day of Christmas, you notice that you didn’t receive an automatic confirmation for your submission. You begin to wonder if there’s an issue with the journal’s software. Reluctantly, you send yet another e-mail to the editor and the journal’s office.
On the 11th day of Christmas, the highly respected scholar-editor finally replies, informing you that the paper has been desk-rejected and your review is no longer needed.
On the 12th day of Christmas, the same editor asks if you’d review another manuscript in your hyper-specialized field. You briefly consider it before realizing you’ve spent far too little time with your family and assorted loved ones.
Photo Credit
Photographer Courtney Powell
Title: Drunk Santas March
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/331963747_4d3b3216fc_o.jpg600800Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2024-12-22 05:47:352024-12-22 06:03:36The Twelve Days of Scholarly Peer Review
Rethinking Utility Markings in Urban Public Spaces
/by Jeffrey Ian RossCities and similar places provide numerous benefits, but these are also balanced with several drawbacks. One such issue is the debris, dislocation, and noise caused by periodic construction, repair, and maintenance of buildings, structures, and utilities.
Less acknowledged amongst these externalities is the spray painting done to identify underground utilities.
These assorted blue, orange, green, and red lines, squiggles, and symbols spray-painted on sidewalks, curbs, and streets are essential for safe construction practices and infrastructure maintenance. However, they are done long before construction and sometimes remain long after their purpose has been fulfilled, creating visual clutter in urban spaces.
Utility marking workers, easily identified by their orange safety vests, often apply the paint carelessly. They might reason that it’s not their neighborhood and municipalities have given them free rein to paint wherever they please.
Meanwhile, since their emergence half a century ago, unsanctioned graffiti and street art (mainly in urban areas) have often been vilified, while utility markings—go largely unnoticed.
By contrast, graffiti (and street art) is frequently abated (painted over or removed) and condemned as vandalism, even when it showcases artistic talent, offers cultural or social commentary, and is generally tolerated by residents.
This double standard reveals a bias: utility markings, sanctioned by authorities, are tolerated, while graffiti and street art, perceived as unsanctioned, are dismissed.
What if utility companies adopt less invasive methods, such as biodegradable chalk, or commit to removing markings promptly after construction ends? And couldn’t we, as a society, reconsider graffiti—not as a blemish but as a potential enhancement to the urban landscape?
By reconsidering these double standards, we might find ways to balance utility and artistry, fostering a more equitable and vibrant visual landscape.
Photo Credit: Utility Markings in Wahington, DC/
Photographer: Jeffrey Ian Ross
2024: The Year in Review—Surprises, Lessons, & a Few Doozies
/by Jeffrey Ian RossOver the past year at “Ross Industries,” we’ve stayed committed to publishing a weekly blog, trying to produce thoughtful (and occasionally humorous) commentary on topics that resonate with both my readers and me. While I consistently evaluate and refine the blog throughout the year, the last week of December is a time for deeper reflection and planning. This involves reviewing which posts connected most with readers—and which didn’t—often with surprising results. Posts I anticipated would resonate sometimes fell short, while those written on a whim occasionally exceeded my expectations.
Here are this year’s top ten blog posts.
1. A Few Things I’ve Learned About Photographing Graffiti and Street Art (July 27, 2024)
The ubiquity of iPhones (with camera and video technology) has led to almost everyone and everything becoming a subject for social media posts. But what makes a good photo of graffiti and street art? After spending considerable time writing and photographing graffiti and street art, I thought sharing some of my decisions when photographing this kind of urban visual material might be helpful. This blog post explores these ideas in greater detail.
2 Appreciating Turk’s Political Criminality: The Defiance and Defense of Authority (September 2024)
This seminal book, which shaped my early scholarship (i.e., Dynamics of Political Crime (2002) and An Introduction to Political Crime (2012), serves as a model of intellectual rigor and clarity. Drawing on scholarship in criminology, political violence, and conflict theory, Political Criminality (1982) explores the relationship among power, political deviance, and the state’s response to threats to its authority. Turk’s conflict-based theory of political crime centers on the idea that power is rooted in controlling resources, with the legal and criminal justice systems used as tools to maintain social and political dominance. To achieve this goal, the state criminalizes dissent to suppress challenges and shape public opinion. The book also examines a broad spectrum of political defiance, from assassinations to wars. Despite its deep theoretical content, the book is highly accessible to readers.
3. Criminology to Challenge the Status Quo (April 15, 2024)
This blog, originally published on the Transforming Society Blog Website (part of Bristol University Press), outlines the rationale for and introduces my latest book, Introduction to Convict Criminology. In December 2024, CHOICE Editors selected the book as one of their top ten titles for the month, representing the best across various disciplines. In short, the Convict Criminology (CC) approach and practice, which has existed for nearly three decades, is built upon three main initiatives: scholarship, activism/mentorship, and advocacy. Its primary aim is to acknowledge and enable the voices and experiences of incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals in criminological and criminal justice scholarship. This movement recognizes how lived experience can reshape the study of corrections, criminology, and criminal justice. The recently published Introduction to Convict Criminology consolidates the field’s scholarship, tracing its history, accomplishments, and transformative impact on individuals, corrections, and the criminal justice system.
4. What do Criminologists Wear? (December 15, 2024)
Have you ever wondered if there are particular types of clothing that people in certain professions wear? This blog post, released later in the year, outlined some of my observations and a tongue-in-cheek commentary on the role of clothing in academia with a special focus on the criminology/criminal justice field. Like in our relationships with others, some of us are more conscious than others about what we wear, when we wear it, and its impact.
5. My go-to scholarly books on Graffiti (February 12, 2024)
Analyzing significant books, films, and music helps me better understand creative works, especially why I like or dislike them. Scholarship on graffiti and street art varies widely in quality. While my Routledge Handbook of Graffiti and Street Art (2019) offers a comprehensive overview, this post highlights what I consider the best academic books on graffiti. These works are indispensable resources for those interested in understanding this subject in greater depth.
6. What are the Hot Research Topics and Questions in Criminology and Criminal Justice? (July 20, 2024)
I’m often asked by students and fellow criminologists what topics in my field I think where there is a demand for research. It’s only natural. People don’t want to waste their resources (usually time and money) conducting research, writing up their findings, and maybe even getting it published without it having any impact. So, it is essential to get it right from the beginning. But this process is not without numerous caveats, including the fact that just because something is “hot” does not mean that you are interested in the topic and that it can sustain you. Imagine slogging through interviews, gathering data, and testing it, when you’d rather watch re-runs of The Wire or some other mindless activity that gives you pleasure.
7. The Power of Language in Criminal Justice (September 22, 2024)
Language is important. It helps us communicate with others. But people and organizations often use the wrong words. Words have meanings that are not always shared. We don’t walk around with dictionaries constantly consulting them to see if what others just said makes sense. Many words are demeaning, and every sphere of life has its own. However, the criminology and criminal justice fields have unique words for the individuals who commit crimes and those who work for criminal justice agencies.
8. Whose Version of “The Sky is Crying” is the Best? (June 23, 2024)
From Muddy Waters to Jimi Hendrix, I’ve always enjoyed the blues, but writing about music on my blog is a departure. (Fun fact: several years ago, my wife and children suggested I start a music blog, so now they’re somewhat vindicated.) Although I’ve never successfully played an instrument and struggled with reading sheet music, music has always been a creative force in my life. I love live performances, the complexity of songs, and their delivery. For all sorts of reasons, I listen to music for nearly sixteen hours a day, so it’s only natural that I would be discerning about what I expose my ears to.
9. My Beef with Person-Centered Language (August 25, 2024)
Those who know me well understand that I’m not particularly fond of language politics. I’m not suggesting that language doesn’t matter—on the contrary, I recognize that the words and labels we use can significantly impact us. When the Convict Criminology (CC) approach and practice started, we quickly noticed the demeaning language often used to describe people with criminal convictions and those currently incarcerated. At the same time, we championed the idea that it’s not for others to decide how we define ourselves. Within the CC praxis, there are differing views on language. Some embrace terms like “convict,” “inmate,” or “prisoner,” seeing them as a way to reclaim identity and challenge stigmas. Others, influenced perhaps by liberal or politically correct perspectives, push to change the language as if doing so will magically improve the lives of those behind bars or those impacted by the justice system. I disagree with this approach. Changing the terms doesn’t necessarily equate to meaningful change in the lives of justice-involved individuals, nor is it the first step in a more significant transformation. Everyone has the right to choose how they are called; that autonomy should be respected. But I find the overemphasis on changing labels without addressing the deeper issues at play misguided. It’s not the language that’s the problem—it’s the systems that sustain the inequalities we see.
10. Are Most Academic Departments, Schools, and Colleges of Criminology or Criminal Justice Cop Shops? (March 11, 2024)
This post garnered the most attention this year. The educational and professional backgrounds of the people who work in your workplace shape the working culture of numerous jobs. In academic environments, this can include what subjects they emphasize and which ones they avoid. It also consists of the expectations of our students. In this piece, I look at the infamous “challenge” of working in and for academic jobs at the so-called “cop shop” criminology departments, where a disproportionate number of the professors and instructors are former (or current criminal justice practitioners). In many respects, I also instill this commentary with a bit of realism that this label may be used unfairly and that cop shop departments may also be decent places to work.
Thinking about 2025
As 2024 winds down, I find myself reflecting on key questions that guide my work:
These items shape the content I produce and the projects I select to work on.
Looking ahead to 2025, I’m excited about new plans and ideas already in motion.
While I’ll keep the details private for now, I promise they will build on everything I’ve learned this past year and those that preceded it.
Meanwhile, I want to express my heartfelt thanks to everyone who has supported my work, whether by reading, sharing, or offering constructive feedback.
You make this journey deeply rewarding, and your input continues shaping my work.
As we enter the new year, I encourage you to stay curious, reflect often, and share your creative or scholarly work with the world.
At ‘Ross Industries,’ we’re calling it a wrap and punching out for the year. Here’s to a productive and inspiring 2025!
Photo Credit
Title: First shift of miners at the Virginia Pocahontas Cool company mine near Richland, Virginia, leaving the elevator (1974)
Photographer: Jack Corn
The Twelve Days of Scholarly Peer Review
/by Jeffrey Ian Ross(a revised version of a series of tweets that I originally posted on Twitter (X) December 2019)
Reviewing papers for scholarly journals is an essential, unpaid service that many academics perform. But the process often raises lots of frustrations and unanswered questions. Meanwhile, unless they still have exams to evaluate and final grades to submit, the Christmas break is when many university instructors and professors attempt to fulfill their promises to review papers—or find themselves pressed into service to do so.
In the spirit of the famous Christmas carol, I bring you, “The Twelve Days of Scholarly Peer Review.”
On the 1st day of Christmas, a highly respected scholar-editor from a top-ranked journal invites you to peer review a paper perfectly aligned with your hyper-specialized expertise—but without specifying a due date.
On the 2nd day of Christmas, after you agree to review the paper, the editor informs you that the review is due in two weeks.
On the 3rd day of Christmas, you open the manuscript, only to discover that it’s riddled with track changes edits.
On the 4th day of Christmas, as you continue reviewing the paper, you realize not only is the manuscript filled with track changes, but the author(s)’ names are still visible—violating the blind review component of the process.
On the 5th day of Christmas, frustrated by the lack of response from the editor to your concerns, you e-mail the journal’s editorial office again. You then spend an hour tracking down the editor’s university contact information, only to get an out-of-office reply. A phone call to the office yields no answer, so you leave a voicemail and add “find better things to do with my life” to your New Year’s resolutions.
On the 6th day of Christmas, you realize the author(s) have lifted significant portions from your seminal article, “The Mating Behavior of the Tsetse Fly in Africa During the 17th Century.” You spend the next 24 hours mentally rehearsing how to frame your indignation (but with a professional tone). You briefly consider writing a strongly worded letter to the editor about academic malfeasance.
On the 7th day of Christmas, despite ignoring your previous e-mails and voicemail, you receive an e-mail from the editor remindering you that the review is due in one week. You stare at the e-mail and wonder if they’ve mistaken you for an unpaid intern.
On the 8th day of Christmas, after the kids, your spouse, and the dog are finally asleep, and despite being exhausted, you spend two hours drafting the review—motivated by guilt, professional integrity, and a misguided belief that this will somehow benefit your career. You add “start a blog about academic labor” to your to-do list.
On the 9th day of Christmas, you re-open the manuscript to double-check your critique before submission. To your dismay, you discover three additional flaws. You spend an extra hour revising your review, muttering a stream of academic-appropriate curses like, “This methodology is untenable,” and “Not clear if this study was approved by an IRB?” Finally, you submit it.
On the 10th day of Christmas, you notice that you didn’t receive an automatic confirmation for your submission. You begin to wonder if there’s an issue with the journal’s software. Reluctantly, you send yet another e-mail to the editor and the journal’s office.
On the 11th day of Christmas, the highly respected scholar-editor finally replies, informing you that the paper has been desk-rejected and your review is no longer needed.
On the 12th day of Christmas, the same editor asks if you’d review another manuscript in your hyper-specialized field. You briefly consider it before realizing you’ve spent far too little time with your family and assorted loved ones.
Photo Credit
Photographer Courtney Powell
Title: Drunk Santas March