St. Augustine in the soul, and San Martín in the weapons; the quest of the no lugar seems like body-soul are never connected. We always have to choose the carnal utopia, condemned because we are the sons of Cain, or to choose the spiritual utopia, condemned by the colonization of the Americas*.
* I think there is no need to mention that as inhabitants of this continent we are all Americans. Or… This could be a utopian statement?
What is a place except only a utopia.
The chosen place for a few people as social idealization of their way of living; professing themselves sons of Minerva. This subjective confinement dispels the human being from reality, wrapping her/him in an illusion. There is no distinction between her/his place (lugar) and her/his no place (no lugar). For her/him, everything is reality when actually her/his reality is a utopia.