Hidden between the craks of history, forgotten by one and all, the rough and turbulent society of the no-photo republic rose again and again after the revolutions (largely of mathematical origin) that ruined it from the beginning of all thet is real. Drowsy with incomprehension of all that had happened, the captures of images were the only guardians of the ultimate meaning of the republic. With their actions, they managed to defend the indefensible from the avalanche of visionary attacks. With the passion of the eternally infinitesimal, this strain of rough souls drew a spiral of failure in time, a final breath capable of awakening nothing, but serving to explain the sad destiny of all thet is dreamed. That wasn´t exactly what happened, but let´s make an effort…