This is a bit off-topic, and quite probably belongs in another thread.

I took Russian in high school. Among the source materials on our classroom's shelves was a stack of almost-never-read copies of "Soviet Life". Seems during the enlightened latter period of the Cold War someone who believed in peace, love, and understanding arranged for Our Government, the good ol' USA to publish a popular magazine in the USSR, called 'USA', or, in its Russian incarnation, "ClllA" where those three upright ls are standing together for the Russian letter 'sha'. I was able to buy a copy of C111A in Moscow a few years later, but that's another story. These copies of "Soviet Life" were in English and designed to show off the best that the Soviet Union wanted the outside world to see of itself. Big color photographs but no glossy paper and I clearly remember seeing developer's fingerprints on the illustration. Point is, there were no reader's fingerprints because the publication was exceedingly dry, full of stories about great agricultural progress and the kind of human interest tales that might appeal to a ear, nose and throat clinician but not a young homemaker or model car buff. Dry stuff, downright boring if you're an American teen.

Meanwhile, the copies of the American derived glossy, colorful, C111A flew off the shelf when they went for sale in the USSR (Personally witnessed by me at a later date). So, the Soviets made sure there was a rule limiting the access that Yankee propaganda had in their country behind the iron doily. They mandated an equal magazine quantity count between the U.S. CIIIA and the U.S.S.R. Soviet Life. So someone, maybe the U.S. government, bought lots of copies of "Soviet Life" in order to assure an adequate quantity of American mags to be released over there, and that was why there was a nearly untouched STACK of them in my high school's language classroom, and probably many more classrooms across the fruited plain.
So I was in that classroom not for instruction from my equally awesome and fearsome Russian teacher, Mr. Morse, but as part of a study period, and I idly started thumbing through one of these dreary publications. After an article with pictures of Young Soviets at band practice, I found a Q & A section. I don't remember any of the Qs and As but for one:

Q: What do you think of political jokes?

I don't remember the A, just that it was serious and analytical. The fact of the matter is that Russians, whether pre-Soviet, Soviet, or post-Soviet are TERRIFIC at political jokes. But the official Soviet line had to be prepared by an official Soviet writer of an offical Soviet publication. Talk about groupthink! So the answer was dry and serious. The point of this story is that even as a tender, rather immature high schooler, I knew the American answer to this question:

"Political jokes are fine, as long as they don't get elected."