To give an example, he is not aware of the fact that he is very much alive and breathing. He has never once questioned or reflected on his own existence, much less formed the concepts of life, or what it means to live, or existence, or what it means to exist. They are way too complicated for his skippy brain. Besides, the very fact that he is aware should be self-sufficient of a proof for anything existing whatsoever.
But it doesn't mean that he could be aware of or have any ways of demonstrating the profound truth of that last sentence. It simply means that, as long as there is at least one other being in this entire universe that can observe him and know that he's aware, then he is sure to exist. It's the duty of those beings of higher intellectual prowess to prove the existence of anything whatsoever, in which George has the honor to be included.
"So, to start, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?"
Whose self is it again? And what is there to tell about this mysterious "yourself"? Ever since his lungs were fully developed, everyone has been asking him this same question. He does not know the significance of this question, or why he has to answer it. His parents simply told him to "get out of this damn gutter and do something useful." Of course, he did not know what "usefulness" meant either.
Fortunately, his species-instincts of 250 million years compelled him to jump out of the water and start doing something, plus he saw a thousand other kids - kids he used to dip in and out with during his childhood days, doing the same thing. So, at least Nature is working as expected, and that is good. One less thing to worry about: whether what he does is appropriately characterized as useful or not. Creatures evolve to have whatever traits that are useful for their survival. If it is not useful, then it could not have been there in the first place. So whatever he does, by simply surviving, it will be guaranteed to be useful. Otherwise, his parents can have Nature herself to blame, not him.
He also recounts when he was little, there used to be lots of strange creatures coming to his home, with skins uniformly made of white in the upper bodies, and blue in the lower parts. They would make flattering remarks about how useful his grandmom, grandad, and other elders in the village were. They took great care in handling the bodies of his village folks, pointing at each part of the bodies and telling each other that it carries great "functions," that without it, we (referring to George and his friends as they spoke) supposedly wouldn't be able to "respire," "digest," etc.
Tons of words he does not understand, but one thing for sure is the keyword "useful" that sounds relevant to his situation now. If the dead bodies of those village folks were useful even when completely torn open, organs laid out all over the place, skins dried out without a single trace of water (that looks disgustingly painful!), then what does it say about him, a very much living thing? The conclusion is obvious: dead or alive, he would still be useful. In other words, he would remain useful even after he has gone out of existence.
But George is still left to figure out this "yourself" that he has to tell; what is so ribbetting about this "yourself" that the other guy wants to know anyway. And the guy has been impatiently waiting for it too. To be clear, only 3 seconds have passed since the question was posited. All the aforementioned thoughts never occurred in George's mind: they are way too mentally exhausting. In reality, he was simply confused. It is easier to be confused than to think through the confusion. And in the heat of the moment, he flicks out what was the most natural to him since birth.
"Crrkkk...crrrkk...crrrrrrreeek..."
He repeats it thrice, each time adding more emphasis to the "r" sound. The "r" is truly nostalgic. It immediately brings him back to the time of freedom and carefreeness, hopping in between the ponds and singing along to the nightly orchestra with his village. It is the only thing that reminds him of himself, his family, and his friends. His whole world consists of this single sound; it is the only thing that marks out his existence (if he ever has one). If there is anything that he knows for certain, it is this.
"We are done for today. It was nice getting to know you. Unfortunately, we will have to go with another candidate."
George leaps out of the room, leaving the door open. His movement is brimming with fresh excitement as if he has just made a breakthrough discovery. "So this 'crrrkk' sound is about the 'yourself' after all," George makes his first thought, all the while filling the air with joyful croaking. All the previous guys, after hearing the "crrrk," either just stood up and left, or contemptuously insisted that it said nothing about him and his background. But this guy is different. He knows George. And it was nice for him to know George's croaking too.
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