The Cayuse is a horrendous and foul beast, created by man long ago in defiance of God. Nobody remembers the first time man used his intellect to manipulate the world around him—the creation of tools and technologies, the institution of governments and societal structures, the formation of theological and philosophical systems, even language itself—
—but the moment he did so, the Cayuse was born.
The Cayuse is the ur-gremlin; the agent of waste and rot; the tendency of human beings
to fall into laziness and sloth; all these and more are due to the Cayuse.
It fucks up your computer, and makes your internet connection crap out. It causes bugs
in hardware and software alike, costing organizations billions of dollars a year in
unnecessary maintenance.
Despite the best efforts of human beings to counteract the natural forces of entropy,
the Cayuse is always there, waiting to fuck your shit up.
The Cayuse is behind every unnecessary website redesign. The Cayuse is always lurking in the
shadows, waiting to fuck up your computer with JavaScript and some bullshit algorithm that
makes websites suck more ass with every passing day because some dirt brother middle-manager
decided that he needed to justify the salaries of the employees there by giving them busy-work
to "continuously improve" the website's user interface and backend, without any thought to the
daily experience of the actual users who have to deal with the website and use it for
socialization.
There is no divine power that can destroy the Cayuse, devil made by man. No agent of any god can
harm the Cayuse, because no gods were involved in its creation.
God took one look at the fucked-up, rude beast, with its chitinous carapace, its disgusting proboscis
that spews a noxious and corrosive ichor, its hilariously-ineffective nervous system comprised of a
linkage of fluid-filled sacs, and said:
Fuck you guys: you did this to yourself, this is all on you.
I ain't getting involved here.
We beat back the hated Cayuse by good old diligence: Comment your code. Tell conservatives to shut the fuck up. Use the computer for good things, not bad things. Use pseudonyms on websites. Drink pourover coffee. Design and repair your own electronics. Learn to solder and weld. Use basic hand tools. Hand-write documents, keep them away from the computer as much as possible. Remember to be ethical.
...And, write music. The Cayuse is perplexed and stymied by music. It senses order there: the mathematical elements of music, the ratios, the binary division of time into equal intervals; but the Cayuse has no analogue within its fucked-up existence to human emotion, and simply can't deal with the ingenuity and creativity that lies at the heart of music. When someone spends hours disassembling their electric guitar, then solders two diodes in parallel onto the positive wire between the volume pot and the output jack, then puts it back together and plugs it into an amp, and wails away on it for the next hour... the Cayuse is taken aback, horrified, absolutely fucked-up. The Cayuse just can't deal with good shit like coffee, and using a soldering iron to fix your own electronics, and music. Oh, the Cayuse tries to shove its disgusting proboscis into any sort of hole it can find on your equipment -- equipment manufacturers "in the know" have included Cayuse Proboscis Ports on their shit for many decades in recognition of this, dummy sacrificial interfaces for the Cayuse to dribble its ichor into -- but the itch to fuck up the Cayuse is ingrained in all of us, and it has been with us for many thousands of years, ever since we first laid eyes on the stupid thing.