First, let's dispense with the obvious. There is no good reason for a grown adult man to be thinking about the song Rude by Magic!. But trying to ferret out the exact reason is like puzzling why someone would surf a dead whale carcass while surrounded by tiger sharks. I guess the answer is "because people are idiots," but let's push things forward.
If you aren't familiar with the song, there it is above in all its, um, glory? Warning, this may be NSFW, if you work in a place where you may get murdered for listening to really, really crappy songs.
I guess "everything" may be a bit too much to chew on under the Problem 1 heading, so perhaps we should limit this to everything musical about the song. The song is undeniably, categorically awful. It has no redeeming musical qualities, other than it technically contains notes and a rhythm and a melody, and therefore qualifies as "music" under the generally accepted definition. I don't have Garage Band, but I'm guessing the background of this song comes as free demo under the heading Genres/Reggae/DudeSeriously/WhateverItsYourFuneralBuddy.
As a special bonus, kids (who suck) love this song, so they will sing it and sing it and sing it and it will get stuck in your head.
[I'm not going to launch into the issues with the video itself. I just can't even.]
Women as property! Yay!
Now, I don't have a problem necessarily with the idea of asking a father for his permission to wed his daughter. I did it. Shockingly, daughters are not the properties of fathers, so for me it wasn't about literal permission as much as being respectful to an old tradition that was important to my inlaws. I was planning on asking my wife's father and mother but for a variety of reasons it was logistically impossible for me to be with them without my wife around.
But I digress.
That said, Hippy Longstocking up there doesn't seem to care too much about his future wife's feelings on anything. Note, he doesn't even ask the question properly:
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life
You can have a soy milk latte. You can have hemorrhoids. You can't have a person, unless you are playing Fantasy Plantation Owner with your racist buddies (and seriously, that would be a fucked up game to play. Don't play that.). What you can do is form a joint partnership with another person, based on mutual love and respect. But that's not what he's asking for.
When denied a prime property-owning opportunity by the old man, he then says:
I'm gonna marry her anyway
Well, that's great for you! But did you ask your girlfriend about it? Did you ever stop to think that maybe her father's opinion might carry some weight, and she may need to think a little more on making a life-altering decision? No you didn't, or you would have said "we're going to get married anyway."
And then, of course, the ultimate in deluded power fantasies:
You know she's in love with me
She will go anywhere I go
I'm going to hazard that this guy has written her wedding vows for her already, and they go a little something like this: I promise to love, honor, and obey you, and I really mean the obey part, I have no hopes and dreams or aspirations of my own that you may want to take into consideration, my smart darling husband, hey would you like a blowjob or anal now?
He's upset about the wrong fucking thing. When the father (quite rightfully, tbh) says no, Captain Romantic is not mad about the substance of the denial, but rather the manner in which it was communicated. That is, he doesn't ask why (although it's painfully obvious, he's a self-centered misogynist asshole), and he doesn't object to the no. Instead, his main beef is that the father showed the lack of proper decorum in the rejection. That his manners were rude.
There is not a tire fire hot enough to throw this asshole onto.
These have been some of the problems I have with the song Rude by Magic!.
Same Sad Echo has been know to have problems with lots of things, which you can read about here or here or here or here or here. Find him @samsadecho and tell him what your problems are. Actually don't do that.