Y’know, I can definitely see how it’s easier to judge the attractiveness of one’s preferred gender. When I look at a woman, I can just ask myself “Am I attracted to her?”, while when looking at a man, I have to step outside my own head a bit and ask “Would someone attracted to men be attracted to him?”. But I can still tell that Photogenic Marathon Guy is well in the above-average portion of the male population. I couldn’t tell you whether he’s hotter than, say, Figwit, or movie-star-hunk-du-jour, but it’s really not all that hard to say that he’s good-looking.
And I agree that the article in the OP is useless without a picture of the subjects. Even if I’m not going to be ogling them and drooling, I’d still like to see just what “too hot to be allowed in the country” looks like.
I agree with Der Trihs on this one. It’s common for women to judge the appearance of other women. But it’s not common for men to judge the appearance of other men. (As always, there are exceptions. Some women don’t do this and some men do.)
If somebody asked, we could decide whether another man would be considered good looking or not. But we probably won’t think about it if nobody else raised the issue.
Wesley, I don’t always get it either. Ryan Gosling? Really? Michael Cera - maybe cute in a dorky kind of way. The only thing I can think of is that sometimes handsome = famous.
(There are famous men I find handsome who I think are just traditionally handsome - Brad Pitt, Ryan Reynolds, Paul Newman - well not anymore - and famous guys I find attractive but I know aren’t classically handsome - Matt Damon).
Look, if they were that hot, they may have been risking a Code 5 – “Narcissus”, where they overstayed their visa because they stared at themselves in the mirror too long.
Any hotter than that and they would have been risking a Code 55 – “Medusa”.
So did they get a signed statement saying that were ejected because they were too handsome? Cuz that’s something I’d have framed, and probably put on my business card.
Reminds me a bit of that first scene in a Vonnegut book – was it Breakfast of Champions? – where some future state requires skilled dancers to perform with shackles and chains on their legs, because otherwise their superior ability just wouldn’t be fair.
