Osama bin Laden is dead.

The news came to me as anyone would expect it to in 2011: via Facebook and Twitter. My news feed and Twitter page buzzed (or should I say chirped) with multiple interpretations of the news, which tended to fall into a few distinct categories.

The overly-used attempts at humor: “I heard some guy just died.”

The snarky retweets of those who accepted that others were more humorous than themselves: “I bet Osama is pissed he came out of hiding for the royal wedding! #ThanksEngland.”

The non-observant, overly-eager-to-make-a-status update: “Obama is dead!”

The religious types: “Enjoy burning in Hell, bin Laden.”

The tweets (erroneously) quoting famous people/peace-loving types: “‘I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.’ – Martin Luther King, Jr.” (but actually no-name tweeter Jessica Dovey)

And finally, people like myself, who sat in front of their computer screens for a good five-to-10 minutes trying to think of something clever to say before choosing not to run the risk of looking dumb and logging out to watch the president speak.

But the shocking news itself wasn’t what I found to be most interesting about May 1.

I found it fascinating to see the number of people that actually started caring about a mission that began back in 2001, perhaps even earlier than that. It seems whenever anything happens in our country, citizens hop on the “I care” bandwagon for a couple of weeks.

But the minute bin Laden’s death stops being a “trending topic,” people will hop right back off and resume life as if nothing had ever happened.

How many people updated their statuses about the search for bin Laden or the ongoing turmoil in the Middle East before Sunday night? Nobody I’m friends with.

Think back to the last time you heard a “proud to be an American” statement made, via social media or any other outlet. It seems to me that they are pretty far and few between. Aside from the permanence of a bumper sticker or tattoo, people only care when it’s popular to do so.

It’s not entirely the fault of the individuals posting the randomly patriotic opinions on the web; it’s the nature of our society. We have become a people that undervalue permanence in essentially every aspect of our lives.

When we get bored, we move on to the next thing, follow that for a while, get bored, repeat. It’s a never-ending cycle of capturing our short attention spans. Think of the Myspace to Facebook transition; we’re even seeing another transition as our interests move away from Facebook and toward Twitter.

From the shockingly high divorce rate to mobile phone contracts that keep getting shorter and shorter so you can get a new phone to the creation of a new iPod once a year, it’s no shocker that in about two weeks people will be off their “American high.” Yes, we’ll celebrate May 1 every year, and the news will remind us of what we apparently cared so much about.

Bin Laden was pronounced dead on Sunday evening.

People will move on to the next popular topic within a week.

This is how it works with politics in our country.

Instead, I would challenge you to try not to forget about this monumental event like the rest of the world will. I challenge you to remember what it felt like to watch the president speak on Sunday. I challenge you to hold onto that moment so you may pass it to your children without a refresher course.

The hype may be temporary, but your memory and patriotism don’t have to be.