In some still-to-be-discovered ancient civilization, there very well might be a cave in which hieroglyphics list the top 10 uses for fire. That means there likely were people in an adjoining cave who angrily disagreed with that list.
Call it list rage. While it lacks the higher profile of its cousins — road rage, computer rage and the still classic the-umpire-is-blind rage — list rage is just human nature.
The Twin Cities, and Minnesota in general, rule when it comes to lists.
We earn raves for our cleanliness, industriousness and urban green spaces. We're applauded for our passions, from biking and reading to music and theater. We've even been listed as one of the nerdiest places in the country, which we've decided to take as a compliment.
Nonetheless, when we encounter a list that leaves us out, it can be hard not to take that slight personally. We already have a chip on our collective shoulder about being flyover land, and it doesn't sit well when list-makers on the coasts ignore us, even if we're ignoring whatever it is they're listing. A snub is a snub, said Katy McEwen, artistic director at the Brave New Workshop, and we shouldn't put up with it.
"Why do we care about these completely arbitrary lists?" she asked rhetorically. "Because underneath our mild-mannered, snow-encrusted exteriors lie the hearts of warriors. Vikings! And Vikings don't back away from a fight, no matter how stupid or meaningless or how little bearing it has on anyone's anything."
Recently, Shape magazine listed the fittest cities in the United States, and we weren't included. But last summer, the National College of Sports Medicine ranked the Twin Cities as the fittest metro area. Two lists, two different rankings. That doesn't make sense — and that makes Minnesotans mad.
The anger doesn't surprise Carol Bruess, a professor at the University of St. Thomas who specializes in interpersonal communication.