With Andy and Money Laundering Machines

I dreamed that I was attending a fervent revolutionary ceremony, something akin to military mornings. Several commanders of the IRGC, a few former commanders in suits, and a cleric were present at the venue. Many sealed packages were stacked in one corner of the ceremony, and there were also devices resembling washing machines present, with individuals dressed formally as if for an official event. The cleric went to the podium and began his speech. He said, 'Dear brothers! Today, as we gather to perform the political-religious ceremony of dusting off, let us all pledge together to safeguard the views of the Supreme Leader.' Someone shouted, 'Send a loud Salawat!' Everyone sent Salawat. The cleric complained and said, 'Dear brothers! Here you should have said Takbir, not Salawat.' The same person loudly said, 'Takbir,' and everyone responded with Takbir. The cleric complained again, slammed his turban on the ground, and shouted, 'Shame on you all. I'm not playing anymore.' At this point, the same person shouted again, 'What is America thinking?!' and everyone responded, 'Iran is full of Basijis.' I don't know why I felt compelled to comfort the cleric and approached him. He was sitting on a platform, staring into the distance. The attendees were still chanting. I said, 'Haj Agha, would you like a cigarette?' He looked and saw I had foreign cigarettes. He said, 'Cigarettes should only be Bahman Koochik. National production, cheap, and they never run out no matter how much you smoke.' I said, 'You're right. I'm Russian too. But Haj Agha, why are you making your blood dirty for this dusting off ceremony?' He replied, 'What dusting off? We want to wash the money. We say dusting off at the podium so that the enemies of the revolution don't understand.' I said, 'Ah, I just understood. So this is money laundering.' He said, 'Shh! Quiet, everyone will understand.' He had calmed down. He stood up and addressed the attendees, who were still chanting, saying loudly, 'Enough, enough. Come on, let's start; the call to prayer is about to be announced, and we will miss the first prayer.' The chanting person began to call to prayer. The cleric shouted loudly, and he fell silent. The attendees rushed towards the packages, which I now understood were money, and quickly threw them into machines resembling washing machines and lined up again. The cleric said, 'Now, simultaneously with the fervent dusting off ceremony, we will listen to the proud national anthem of our dear homeland.' The machines started working, and the person responsible for chanting turned on a tape recorder to play the national anthem, and everyone stood at attention. Moments later, a very cheerful and rhythmic song by Andy was played in the space. The cleric slammed his turban on the ground again in anger, and a moment later, while I was bouncing up and down with one of the IRGC members to the rhythm of 'The beauties must dance,' I woke up. In this context, circumventing sanctions with dancing in Friday prayers, Halloween in the Hosseiniyeh, escaping from the saw of two rogue forces, a connection to the knee release in the presence of the prosecutor, tomorrow's station with Farshid Manafi, paradox with Kambez Hosseini, and justification of issues with Jalal Saeedi.