Binance Pulse | BNB Price Trends
Binance Pulse | BNB Price Trends
November 11, 2025. Another Tuesday. For most of us, it probably felt like any other day, a blur of emails, endless scrolling, and the usual manufactured outrage that passes for news these days. But let's be real, beneath the digital din, something actually happened that day. Two somethings, actually, and the contrast ain't just stark, it's a gut-punch if you’re paying attention.
First, there was Edward Felix Burgess. He passed away in Kansas City, KS, at the ripe old age of 97. Ninety-seven years. Think about that for a second. This wasn't some tech mogul or a TikTok star. This was a man who served in the United States Navy, got his honorable discharge back in '51, and then spent the better part of his life moving mail for the Postal Service. A mail handler. A faithful member of St. Therese Parish, active in the Knights of Columbus. He watched birds, he gardened, he tinkered with small engines, and he cheered for the Royals and the Chiefs. He married Theresa Marie, raised four kids, saw seven grandkids, and even got to hold eight great-grandchildren. His funeral's set for November 19th, a quiet affair at St. Therese, followed by military honors at Leavenworth National Cemetery. One small condolence from a veteran's wife popped up online, thanking him for his sacrifice. That's it. A life, lived fully, honorably, and quietly, slipping away into the cold, damp Kansas City air, marked by a few lines in an Edward Burgess – Kansas City 11.11.2025 - Meyers Funeral Chapel Kansas City MO and a single online comment.
Now, on that exact same day, November 11th, something else dropped. Something that, if you were in certain circles, got a whole lot more digital ink and enthusiastic headlines: the Patriot League Announces Swimmers and Divers of the Week (11.11.25) - Patriot League. Oh, the excitement! Army West Point snagged three. Boston University and Navy each grabbed two. Johnny Crush, a sophomore at Army, notched his tenth career Men's Swimmer of the Week honor for two wins and two second-place relays against Penn State. Molly Webber, a senior, got her third this season, breaking a program record in the 200-yard freestyle. Mackenzie Kim, a Navy senior, swept both diving events in a triple-dual victory.
I mean, wow. Really makes you stand up and cheer, doesn't it? We're talking about weekly awards. For college swimming. Don't get me wrong, these kids work hard, I'm sure. They're probably great athletes. But let's be brutally honest: are we really supposed to equate these fleeting, hyper-specific accolades with, you know, life? With service? It feels like we're celebrating the ripples on the surface of a puddle while ignoring the deep, bedrock foundation of a river flowing beneath. We're getting hyped for a flash in the pan, a digital high-five, while the quiet giants who actually built the damn bridge are fading into obscurity.
This isn't to say we shouldn't celebrate achievement. No, 'achievement' ain't the right word here—it’s more about what we prioritize as achievement. We've got a system, a media landscape, that's practically hardwired to elevate the immediate, the flashy, the easily quantifiable. A record-breaking swim, a weekly award, that's concrete, it's digestible, it fits neatly into a headline. But how do you headline a life of quiet dignity, of consistent service, of simply being a good man who raised a family and loved his hobbies? You can't, not really. It doesn't generate clicks like "Crush Dominates!" or "Webber Smashes Record!" And that, my friends, is a problem. A big one.
We talk a big game about honoring veterans, about respecting our elders, about the values that supposedly underpin our society. But when the rubber meets the road, when it's just another Tuesday and the news cycle is churning, what actually gets the spotlight? A man who served his country, worked hard his whole life, and contributed to his community, passes on, and it's a whisper. Meanwhile, a college kid wins a backstroke race and breaks a pool record—a pool record, mind you—and it's a news item, complete with a list of honorable mentions. It's almost comical, if it weren't so damn sad.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are we really teaching ourselves, our kids, about what matters? Are we so consumed by the immediate, the competitive, the superficial, that we've lost the capacity to even see the quiet, profound acts of living a good life? I mean, what's gonna be remembered in fifty years? Johnny Crush's tenth Swimmer of the Week award, or the collective legacy of a man like Edward Burgess, who just was for 97 years? I know which one should stick, but I ain't holding my breath. Maybe I'm just an old cynic, but the way we pick our heroes, or even just our daily headlines, feels like we're definately missing the point.