a junky’s glossary
Sunday, May 18th, 2008The 50th anniversary edition of William Burroughs’ Junky includes, among other treats, a glossary defining some of the terminology used by the addicts, pushers and various other unsavory characters trafficking the underworld of post-war New York, New Orleans and Mexico City. Very appropriately the glossary introduction acknowledges the influence of ‘jive talk’–a language that defined the community of marijuana users (and I would guess jazz musicians who overlapped with potheads)–and ultimately merging with those considered ’hip’ (see glossary below).
To quote the introduction more directly, “Jive talk always refers to more than one level of fact”–to which I would add that this dialect of American English inscribed a code for the essential business of scoring the next fix, as well as illustrating much of the associated activities and consequences of getting high.
are you anywhere? (Do you have any junk or weed on you?) That this question should ring philosophical, even existential, cuts to the heart of the user’s raison d’être. I would imagine an outsider’s possible response to such a question–”Are you high?”–proportionally ironic.
burn down (To overdue or run into the ground.) The glossary cites a scenario when junkies gathering too frequently at a particular eating establishment to score, that law enforcement eventually gets wise to it. The restaurant in question is then considered “burned down.”
croaker (A doctor.) As described in Junky’s text, one willing to prescribe a junky his fix. Burroughs elaborates on the type of physician a user will seek out.
Generally speaking, old doctors are more apt to write than young ones. Refugee doctors were a good field for a while, but the addicts burned them down. Often a doctor will blow his top at the mere mention of narcotics and threaten to call the law.
Doctors are so exclusively nurtured on exaggerated ideas of their position, that generally speaking, a factual approach is the worst possible. Even though they do not believe your story, nonetheless they want to hear one. It is like some Oriental face-saving ritual (pp. 17-18).
hep or hip (Someone who knows the score. Someone who understands ‘jive talk’; someone who is ‘with it.’) I believe any thoughtful observer of popular culture will acknowledge how this term has become orphaned from its origins and yet signifies the past fondly.
lush-worker(A thief who specializes in robbing drunks on the subway.) An economist accounting for the cash flow operating in the drug trafficking system in Manhattan (circa 1950) would have to account for the capital generated by preying on the intoxicated upwardly mobile.
poke (A wallet.) The pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow for your vigilant and industrious lush-worker. An example among several others when a specific action–poking around someone’s pockets–becomes a noun.
pop corn (Someone with a legitimate job, as opposed to a hustler or a lush-worker.) I suspect there’s a glint of insult in this term for someone with one foot in the “square” world and the other among the “hip.”
smash (Change, money, coins.) Another example of an action–in this case the destruction of coin-operated machines, to raise money for a fix–transformed by usage into a noun.
Often the terminology of a marginal community I have found equally amusing and intriguing. The amusement is self evident. The intrigue I owe to the mystery of appropriating accepted usage for a purpose quite far removed; to effect the function of concealing and revealing at the exact same moment; always referring “to more than one level of fact.”