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On a quiet November morning in 2010, in the sleepy town of Salvaterra de Miño, Spain, a woman with a vision as vast as the universe walked into a notary’s office, sealing her name in history. Ángeles Durán didn’t just claim a patch of land, or even a treasure. No, she did something no one had dared to do before, she claimed the Sun.
At the heart of this audacious act wasn’t just a flight of fancy or whimsy. Armed with legal documents, she had a plan. Durán, who had been inspired by previous figures who staked claims on celestial bodies, asserted her ownership of the star that gives life to our planet. In her mind, the Sun had been overlooked for billions of years, and why shouldn’t she be the one to lay claim to it?
“Why Not Me?”
With an unshakeable belief in her understanding of international law, Durán pounced on a loophole in the 1967 Outer Space Treaty. This treaty, which was designed to prevent any nation from laying claim to celestial bodies, made no mention of individuals. Durán was quick to point out the flaw: “No one had claimed it in five billion years. Why not me?” The notary, seemingly baffled by the request, nonetheless accepted her paperwork, and thus, the G2 spectral-type star at the center of our solar system was officially recognized as her property.
What began as a personal quirk swiftly ignited global fascination. Here was a woman making a claim so bold, so outlandish, it could not be ignored. It wasn’t just about her, but about everything we know about ownership, law, and our relationship with the universe. What does it mean to “own” a star? How far can the human imagination stretch when it’s motivated by legal loopholes and personal ambition?
The Business of the Sun
But Durán wasn’t simply seeking fame—she had a far more ambitious vision. Her plan was clear: monetize her cosmic claim. She proposed to charge solar energy companies for the use of “her” Sun, and even began listing parcels of it for sale on platforms like eBay. It was a bold, if not entirely legal, attempt to commercialize what most would consider an intangible asset.
The world watched with bated breath as the story grew more bizarre. Could the Sun truly be bought and sold? Could anyone really own something so vital to all life on Earth? As Durán’s name gained international media attention, the question became not just about ownership of the Sun, but about the boundaries of human ingenuity and the absurdity of legal systems designed by earthly minds trying to make sense of the infinite.
A Cosmic Controversy
Durán’s claim sparked an unexpected flurry of controversy. It didn’t take long for critics to weigh in, and some even turned the situation into a source of humor. The idea of holding someone accountable for sunburns or climate-related damages became a punchline across the globe. Could Durán be sued for the heatwave in summer? What about the disastrous consequences of global warming? The legal wrangling that might have followed—had it gained any traction, would have been absurd, to say the least.
Even eBay, the marketplace that once seemed like the perfect platform for selling a sliver of the Sun, banned Durán’s listings. Their justification? A policy against selling intangible goods. However, the fact that such a policy had to be invoked was in itself a reflection of the strange space Durán had created—one where the very concept of ownership could be stretched to breaking points.
A Global Conversation
Yet, despite the ridicule and the legal hurdles, Ángeles Durán stood by her claim. She made it clear that her actions were meant to raise awareness about the limitations and inconsistencies in legal frameworks; particularly when it came to the ownership of things that are, by their nature, beyond human control.
Durán’s declaration may never have been officially recognized by any government or institution, but her story remains a testament to the power of human ambition and the boundless creativity of the human spirit. Her claim to the Sun forces us to confront not just questions about property and law, but our own relationship to the cosmos. It asks: What does it mean to own something that cannot be touched, that exists far beyond our reach?
A Cosmic Legacy
Angeles Durán’s claim may not have altered the fabric of space-time or even shaken the foundations of legal systems, but it did remind the world of one undeniable truth: human imagination knows no limits. When one person dares to dream beyond the stars, the rest of us are left wondering just how far we might go, if only we dare to reach.
As Durán herself put it, “I may not be able to touch the Sun, but I’ve shown that no idea is too big, or too bright.”
Her story is a quirky, audacious reminder of how far we will go to leave our mark on the universe. And in that, Ángeles Durán succeeded.
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