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Almost no photos here but it matters little, we know what there is to see: an elegy fitting fragments. For FW time was always at issue, the small moment projecting its largess, say the moment of Einstein's conception, or large waste carving its single momento mori whittled in time's erosion. The Gug needing not expend documentary energy but instead promotion's concision, fragments. The humor of FW's misuse of time, in time, becomes instead its loss. Suddenly not very funny at all.
