If I had blond hair and fair skin...

and lived in a country where sodomy (archaic, biblical and magnificent) was not frowned upon as much. But that's of course superfluous for sodomy will always be frowned upon, regardless of the context.
This essentialist/universalist proposition overlooks lots of subtleties and differences, but I would rather refer to same-sex intercourse as sodomy rather than "Lotism" as used in an Arab/Islamic context.
Whoever linked the noun/adjective to the Jewish prophet had his information mixed.
But anyways, in my crazy, post-colonial city blond hair sells.
Sells big time.
And fair skin, as pale as "cream" and "milk" as local metaphors refer to it, (me personally would rather use the Chinese metaphor, "pale as the moon", less organic, more impersonal) is idolized like the color of God. If "the color purple" is a divine color, the color white is just as heavenly.
And men, a primitive sex by nature, associate colors with politics, history and desire. A simplistic, reductionist and dangerous association.
So the colonizers, the "white man", becomes the colonized, and white, the color of the long loathed master, becomes the "object", the "object of desire".
And the legacy of subjection is internalized, eroticized and manifests itself in a very cute dichotomy:
The beauty/attraction of white skin + blond hair vs. the desire to destroy/devour the decadent, Western colonizer.
How can anyone compete against that?
So there comes an English breed, with fake blond hair (no offence darling) and pale skin, soft spoken and genteel and I stand with my Mediterranean skin and hair in competition.
And I lose. I lose with no grace!
The English breed wins. They won now like they won then.
And what are we poor locals to do?
I personally don't idolize fair skin. Like any respectable, self-critical post-colonial queen I know the parameters of my subjectivity.
I appreciate skin in all its textures and colors.
Each has its beauty and splendor without going much into a post/colonial dispute over the psychological and unconscious association with skin and race.
But enlightenment does not sell.
Not in this cyberworld. And definitely not on gaydar!
Men, a shallow sex by nature, pay little attention to your mental capacities or IQ. As long as your socially intelligent, in a very decorative sense, the kind of intelligence that is static, does not go beyond the functional, you are "hot".
But pauvre moi! I have to suffer.
I have to compete with blonds and mentally incapacitated brutes. Positively barbaric.
And my self-criticality, a very fashionable quality in academia but repulsive anywhere else, goes against me. It is to my discredit, rather than to my credit.
A post-colonial queen would do better than to refer to herself as self-critical. Or to try to attempt to adorably use psychoanalysis to expose unattractive guys.
She is doomed.

And she has to cater to the sensibilities of a tyrannical class, that is "hot guys", who dictate and define the acceptable standards of aesthetics in a gay context. And like Ancient Greece, those who are fat, dark, who have any slight deformity, and those who do not posses sculpted physiques run the risk of being sent into exile, to spend the rest of their days at the fringes of reality, then go die in an "ugly gay-yard"!