Among hackers, though, slang has a subtler aspect, paralleled perhaps in the slang of jazz musicians and some kinds of fine artists but hard to detect in most technical or scientific cultures; parts of it are code for shared states of *consciousness*.
As a great artist once said of jazz: "If you hafta ask, you ain't never goin' to find out."
Folk music is very big in hacker circles; so is electronic music, and the sort of elaborate instrumental jazz/rock that used to be called `progressive' and isn't recorded much any more.
That Thomas Sabin’s Boston coach was “damn’d uncomfortable” old letters may well have told; but what healthy antiquarian could recall how the creaking of Epenetus Olney’s new signboard (the gaudy crown he set up after he took to calling his tavern the Crown Coffee House) was exactly like the first few notes of the new jazz piece all the radios in Pawtuxet were playing?
The sudden blast of jazz drowned out the screams.
The pianist was pounding out jazz, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
I’ve got a great library of jazz, but if you want to pick up a steady thirty bucks a week, here’s your chance.”
Lavender's and Mr. Dugald's high spirits seemed to her as unfitting as jazz at a funeral.
They like ragtime, jazz and music with a swing to it.
Goes to the Cabaret ¶ The fat person will wiggle his toes, tap his fingers, swing his fork and nod his head by the hour with a rumbling jazz orchestra.
A man who writes himself down for the tenth jazz must be eagerly appearing on the stroke of the first bar.