They must be. Years ago, when I was on safari in Kenya, my Model M was eaten by an elephant that mistook it for a large tea biscuit. I was quite fond of the keyboard, so I tracked the beast for days till the keyboard finally came out of her other end—intact!
I cleaned it as best I could (the keyboard, that is, not the elephant's end), and to my amazement, it still worked perfectly. In fact, I'm typing on it now. It exudes just the faintest aroma to remind me of my African adventure. My friends also theorize that the keyboard's unusual digestive trek has influenced the veracity of my writing.