So, I can see absurdities from both sides, here (in the small village we live on the edge of).
We moved here in 2010 so will forever be regarded as 'incomers' but I think have settled in pretty well, and DH had a semi-rural childhood, so none of it is alien to him. And I'm sensible and not an arse. 
But there are LOADS of fecking ignorant noobs (some of whom, given their level of education, you'd really hope would know better) who complain about: the tractors, the sileage, the escaped sheep in the gardens (actually that is bloody annoying and the farm's fault), the smells, and my personal favourite, the querulous enquiry in the village facebook group about why the church bells were always 'going mad' on Wednesday evenings (that's bellringing practice night. She seemed not to understand what that is or why it needed to take place). Same woman bitches about each and every fun activity, event or trail that takes place in the village because it's run by the church or for the benefit of the church. Very few of them are faith-focussed but it just happens that the church here functions as a social hub and heart of the village. I'm an atheist and I think that's really nice. Anyway.
But on the other hand, there are a few born-in-the-villagers who come out with some really stupid, insular things too. Like our neighbours, who would like a better view of the horizon and therefore would like ALL the trees in all the gardens bordering their own to be cut down. Or the woman who, during the first lockdown, was very concerned that Youth were attending illegal gatherings in the layby at the edge of the village and that they would be coming from Outside The Village and therefore bring the Plague in with them... (I assume she wasn't herself attending these parties.) It's a nice village in a prosperous county, about ten miles outside one of the most expensive towns to live in in the UK, and not a remote outpost, but some of the ingrained attitudes are fairly cringeworthy. Not to mention racist on occasion.
The whole Thing of townie incomers upsetting the locals with their absurd expectations is centuries old though. I remember writing an A Level essay about this very theme in Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. 