1. There are no variables; everything is a constant. Change is merely an illusion. You get out of each program exactly what you put in, but somehow you feel that you understand it better.
2. You are the compiler, and thus the code is written in whichever form fixes it best in your memory. There is an interesting algebra to account for the probability that some instructions will be forgotten. A number of papers have been written on the subject.
3. We consider all programs as living entities, of a sort. Ethically, therefore, we have some problems with the idea of a program that terminates. Instead, we write programs that will live for ever, assuming suitable infrastructure to live on. Because of this requirement, we are always short of resources. New programs are written only rarely, when we have had an equipment delivery. Of course, we lose many to crashes each year; but we are always careful to offer up a prayer for their souls.
4. Programs are myths, myths are programs. Each encapsulates the instructions of fate. It does not matter which queen sleeps with the fire god, or which flint is thrown down the well. The outcome is always the same in each possible world. And at the end all worlds will reach the terminating conditions by one path or another.
5. We offer up the code to the machine cautiously, hoping that it will approve. Based on certain tropes, intutions, and appreviations, we believe we have made the code more palatable to flow through the prayer wheels of our silicon angels. We have added more brackets, in the hope that they will be experienced as hugs. We loop only to the extent that it will not induce dizziness. When we receive our output we do so in respectful silence.
6. Errors and mishandled information are sins, and we have a heavy responsibility on us to eliminate them. Our languages are written above all else to minimise the number of bugs. It has been necessary to eliminate a certain amount of flexibility, choice and human input to do this. But at least we can be assured that our pope writes infallible code.
7. We indent with three spaces. This was the original intention of the developers. It is not correct to indent with four and is offensive to their memory. All such incidents of disrespect shall be dealt with.
8. We consider human languages to have developed greater and greater levels of abstraction, further and further from the underlying code. As such we work backwards, trying to reverse engineer ourselves. We learn the oldest languages we can. At night we fall asleep with the obsessive repetitions of Gilgamesh in our ears. We pray to Sapir and to Whorf that we can get back at last to the original instructions, so that we might debug them.