“Kenneth, what is the frequency?”
We can never know the answer to these things. It is not that these questions lack merit: they simply lack sense. Punch me in the face all you want, I can still never give you a credible response to such queries.
I went swimming in the Tyrrhenian Sea once. I was totally drunk, totally naked, and totally alone. I was far out from shore, so far I could barely see the lights of San Lucido, and even then only intermittently, as I bobbed up and down with the waves. It was a calm night, balmy and mild, the heat of the day dissipated, though not in the same way I was.
I got turned around somehow (no wonder, really), and a fisherman pulled me out in the wee hours, a bit hostile at the extra weight, demanding what I was doing so far out, so far over my head. I had no idea what to tell him. Exhausted, I just laughed until he punched me.
