Winston turned a little sideways in his chair to drink his mug of coffee. At the table on his left the man with the strident voice was still talking remorselessly away....He held some important post in the FICTION DEPARTMENT....It was just a noise, a quack-quack-quacking....Every word of it was pure orthodoxy, pure Ingsoc....Winston had a curious feeling that this was not a real human being but some kind of dummy. It was not the man's brain that was speaking, it was his larynx. The stuff that was coming out of him consisted of words, but it was not speech in the true sense: it was noise uttered in unconsciousness, like the quacking of a duck.

Absurd premises receive absurd responses.