introduction
     n 1: the first section of a communication
     2: the act of beginning something new; "they looked forward to
        the debut of their new product line" [syn: {debut}, {first
        appearance}, {launching}, {unveiling}, {entry}]
     3: formally making a person known to another or to the public
        [syn: {presentation}, {intro}]
     4: a basic or elementary instructional text
     5: a new proposal; "they resisted the introduction of
        impractical alternatives"
     6: the act of putting one thing into another [syn: {insertion},
         {intromission}]
     7: the act of starting something for the first time;
        introducing something new; "she looked forward to her
        initiation as an adult"; "the foundation of a new
        scientific society"; "he regards the fork as a modern
        introduction" [syn: {initiation}, {founding}, {foundation},
         {institution}, {origination}, {creation}, {innovation}, {instauration}]
Source: WordNet® 2.0

Introduction

This document is a collection of slang terms used by various subcultures
of computer hackers. Though some technical material is included for
background and flavor, it is not a technical dictionary; what we describe
here is the language hackers use among themselves for fun, social
communication, and technical debate.

The `hacker culture' is actually a loosely networked collection of
subcultures that is nevertheless conscious of some important shared
experiences, shared roots, and shared values. It has its own myths, heroes,
villains, folk epics, in-jokes, taboos, and dreams. Because hackers as a
group are particularly creative people who define themselves partly by
rejection of `normal' values and working habits, it has unusually rich and
conscious traditions for an intentional culture less than 40 years old.

As usual with slang, the special vocabulary of hackers helps hold their
culture together -- it helps hackers recognize each other's places in the
community and expresses shared values and experiences. Also as usual, _not_
knowing the slang (or using it inappropriately) defines one as an outsider,
a mundane, or (worst of all in hackish vocabulary) possibly even a {suit}.
All human cultures use slang in this threefold way -- as a tool of
communication, and of inclusion, and of exclusion.

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_. There is a whole range of altered states
and problem-solving mental stances basic to high-level hacking which don't
fit into conventional linguistic reality any better than a Coltrane solo or
one of Maurits Escher's `trompe l'oeil' compositions (Escher is a favorite
of hackers), and hacker slang encodes these subtleties in many unobvious
ways. As a simple example, take the distinction between a {kluge} and an
{elegant} solution, and the differing connotations attached to each. The
distinction is not only of engineering significance; it reaches right back
into the nature of the generative processes in program design and asserts
something important about two different kinds of relationship between the
hacker and the hack. Hacker slang is unusually rich in implications of this
kind, of overtones and undertones that illuminate the hackish psyche.

But there is more. Hackers, as a rule, love wordplay and are very
conscious and inventive in their use of language. These traits seem to be
common in young children, but the conformity-enforcing machine we are
pleased to call an educational system bludgeons them out of most of us
before adolescence. Thus, linguistic invention in most subcultures of the
modern West is a halting and largely unconscious process. Hackers, by
contrast, regard slang formation and use as a game to be played for
conscious pleasure. Their inventions thus display an almost unique
combination of the neotenous enjoyment of language-play with the
discrimination of educated and powerful intelligence. Further, the
electronic media which knit them together are fluid, `hot' connections,
well adapted to both the dissemination of new slang and the ruthless
culling of weak and superannuated specimens. The results of this process
give us perhaps a uniquely intense and accelerated view of linguistic
evolution in action.

Hacker slang also challenges some common linguistic and anthropological
assumptions. For example, it has recently become fashionable to speak of
`low-context' versus `high-context' communication, and to classify cultures
by the preferred context level of their languages and art forms. It is
usually claimed that low-context communication (characterized by precision,
clarity, and completeness of self-contained utterances) is typical in
cultures which value logic, objectivity, individualism, and competition; by
contrast, high-context communication (elliptical, emotive, nuance-filled,
multi-modal, heavily coded) is associated with cultures which value
subjectivity, consensus, cooperation, and tradition. What then are we to
make of hackerdom, which is themed around extremely low-context interaction
with computers and exhibits primarily "low-context" values, but cultivates
an almost absurdly high-context slang style?

The intensity and consciousness of hackish invention make a compilation
of hacker slang a particularly effective window into the surrounding
culture -- and, in fact, this one is the latest version of an evolving
compilation called the `Jargon File', maintained by hackers themselves
since the early 1970s. This one (like its ancestors) is primarily a
lexicon, but also includes topic entries which collect background or
sidelight information on hacker culture that would be awkward to try to
subsume under individual slang definitions.

Though the format is that of a reference volume, it is intended that the
material be enjoyable to browse. Even a complete outsider should find at
least a chuckle on nearly every page, and much that is amusingly
thought-provoking. But it is also true that hackers use humorous wordplay
to make strong, sometimes combative statements about what they feel. Some
of these entries reflect the views of opposing sides in disputes that have
been genuinely passionate; this is deliberate. We have not tried to
moderate or pretty up these disputes; rather we have attempted to ensure
that _everyone's_ sacred cows get gored, impartially. Compromise is not
particularly a hackish virtue, but the honest presentation of divergent
viewpoints is.

The reader with minimal computer background who finds some references
incomprehensibly technical can safely ignore them. We have not felt it
either necessary or desirable to eliminate all such; they, too, contribute
flavor, and one of this document's major intended audiences -- fledgling
hackers already partway inside the culture -- will benefit from them.

A selection of longer items of hacker folklore and humor is included in
{Appendix A}. The `outside' reader's attention is particularly directed to
the Portrait of J. Random Hacker in {Appendix B}. Appendix C, the
{Bibliography}, lists some non-technical works which have either influenced
or described the hacker culture.

Because hackerdom is an intentional culture (one each individual must
choose by action to join), one should not be surprised that the line
between description and influence can become more than a little blurred.
Earlier versions of the Jargon File have played a central role in spreading
hacker language and the culture that goes with it to successively larger
populations, and we hope and expect that this one will do likewise.


Source: The Jargon File