We are the No Men in No Man’s Land
It’s a Sunday night in the coronatimes and it’s been quite a while since you’ve heard from Jam Sandwich.
I’d say I’ve been busy, but the truth is, well, life, you know?
But listen, no matter. I have something important to share with you: Phish’s “No Men in No Man’s Land.”
Lights.
The lyrics, which we first heard in 2015, just socked me in the 2020 gut.
How far have we fallen, how far can we go?
How far will we fall, if there's nothing below
You stand on a rock, suspended in air
Emblazoned with sunlight keenly aware
That we've broken free, something has changed
A tear in the fabric, some tiles rearrangedWe are the no men in no man's land
We are the no men in no man's land
Darkness the one thing we all understand
We are the no men in no man's land
We are the no men in no man's landAnd the truth will rise above, and fiction fall beneath
Although the lies may bite, the truth has all the teeth
You see us as a window, you're happy that we're here
Exposed to all the elements, while inside all is clearBut if you hold a mirror, and you turn it to one side
The depth you see within at first, will find a place to hide
We are the no men in no man's landThe loss of all motion, the absence of sound
When there's no sun to circle around
We are the no men in no man's land
Tell me that’s not about coronavirus.
How far have we fallen? How far can we go?
That’s the thing about this pandemic we find ourselves in. Despite a horrifying increase of cases and deaths every day — New York City just surpassed all of South Korea — we simply don’t know where we are on the curve.
Is this just the beginning? Do we have a way to go? Are we flattening anything at all?
We’re on this rock, suspended in air, but spring in the air is a no-go zone. It’s different, the warm weather’s a draw outdoors, but it’s a trap. We’ve been discouraged to enjoy it together because the fabric’s been torn. The tiles are rearranged.
There’s a virus.
The darkness that creeps beyond the bend is the inspiration behind this whole massive experiment in survival. If we don’t get this separation right more bad times will certainly follow.
It’s the one thing we all understand in this no man’s land.
For a variety of reasons — misinformation, disinformation, failures at all levels of government — the truth has struggled to rise above.
It’s the flu. It doesn’t impact young people.
Those lies bite, but the truth has teeth. It’s deadlier to older people and those with underlying health conditions, but more than half of New York’s positive cases are in young people.
It’s wildly infectious. We can’t escape it in the no man’s land.
In the meantime, we’re finding human connections through screens, or through windows, and while it’s not physical it feels good to see familiar faces.
Zoom, Facetime, it doesn’t matter, we’re happy that you’re here.
We have to stay in. Exposed to the elements means further community spread. Inside all is clear. We have to stay home.
But these changes won’t mean we come back to life the way we left it when it all resumes weeks or months from now, when we emerge on the other side. Far from it — life as we know it is warping by the hour.
The mirror’s been turned to one side.
No sports, no school, no work, no concerts — the loss of all motion, the absence of sound. What is life when there's no light to circle around?
But life is still finding a way — unexpected time with family, a chance to teach our kids how to slow it all down, a plethora of live-streamed concerts, a renewed sense of community and purpose.
We are the no men in no man's land.
Find a place to hide and we’ll see you on the other side.
~deep exhale~
Anyways, that’s how I see things.
Stay healthy friends,
Moneyries
Jam Sandwich