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One can go through the whole life without even a hint on a presence of anything like ghosts, angels, demons and flying imps. And yet, the door to the netherworld will be always open, so everyone can take a peek. I am talking about dreams. In dreams you see the shadows of daily reality, which, in its turn, as Socrates had pointed out, is nothing but a shadow of an actual reality. Sometimes things which can't be seen in penumbra, can be seen in the deeper shadow, in the umbra. And almost everybody has dreams.

Yesterday was a nice Sunday afternoon, and I was working since 7 A.M. on a nearly final version of Melor and Makakey, His Marxist Monkey. I guess I had too much coffee, so I’ve crashed on my bunk, dead asleep. I don’t know about you, but the daytime dreams usually leave no trace in my memory. Same was on that Sunday afternoon, except for a small piece in the middle of my dream. It was like a cameo appearance (So I bet it was irrelevant to the context), when suddenly, out of the blue came my friend Bill, a former Navy pilot. Bill looks very much like Al Capone in Escape from Alcatraz movie, one who had a pet mouse. Bill jutted his chin, as he always does when he wants to say something significant, and shot:

“This world is run by Petrushkas!”

And I remembered this as clear, as if it was real. So I woke up and continued my work, but at some point I’ve stopped Bill and told him just what I have heard him saying in my dream.

“What is Petrushka?” Bill asked me.

So I've told him that Petrushka is a Russian version of Punch (like in Punch and Judy). He is a jester who always gets into a trouble and always wins. He used to be the most popular glove puppet appearing in five minute skits that entertained crowds at country fairs. In other Words, Petrushka is a common hero in poor man’s version of a theatre, and his origins are going back into the dark ages of unwritten history.

I've explained all this to Bill, and he said:

“This is weird, because today I've called my son and told him that the governments of this world are run by puppets.”

That’s it, except for one more thing: I had no thoughts whatsoever about Petrushka when I crashed on my bed, this alien word had been buried deep in my passive memory for decades. So, what was it? A coincidence? A message?

“This world is run by Petrushkas!”

And if the power is indeed left to Petrushkas, the question is: whose hand is in the glove?

Bela Abel

P.S. Oh, when I was talking to Bill I've missed to mention the famous ballet by Igor Stravinsky of the same name and character, but this is just a side note.

Dreams; Society; Supernatural; World of Illusion

 


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