The Revenge of Yuri Andropov

I recently had a nightmare where I was living in a Soviet dacha and when I looked out the front window, saw a group of locals gathering to do me harm. But they were disorganized and in no hurry and had primitive weapons, farming tools mostly, so I was concerned but not overly so. Yet with each passing minute more people would arrive, better organized and better armed, and my anxiety began to escalate.

The KGB arrived with the night and began planting explosives at the front of the house. I knew I had to get out fast and without even taking the time to find my shoes ran out the backdoor. I hoped to creep through a maze of shadows to safety but was shocked to find the street lit as brightly by street lamps as if by the mid-day sun. I cursed the efficiency of the Soviet state and woke up.

At first angry at my subconscious for torturing me so, I soon burst out laughing. The efficient Soviet state? Was I the victim of a failed plot by Yuri Andropov, head of the KGB before his short stint as head of the Soviet Union, to plant subliminal propaganda into the dreams of American youth during the height of the Cold War?

Only perhaps the plot was not failed but delayed and I wondered if other middle-aged Americans were waking to the praises of a long-dead empire.

But apparently not. Sorry Yuri.

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