There's no room for subtlety, no profit in compromise. In the world of unreality, distance from mundanity measures success. It's like living in the faked-up world of Madison Avenue, with hamburgers the size of hubcaps, dishes that shine like heliographs, and toilets with nosy little men rowing around in the flush tank. Reality is a lot dirtier, a lot duller, and its flush tank is a lot less crowded. The differences between good and evil are often subtle and protean.
Real hamburgers are dry and pasty, and no one is punting in the potty.
A person raised in the exaggerated world of the media carnival has no point of reference from which to judge bland reality. In the Looking Glass world, the choices are easy. The Bad Guys are clearly identified on the game's instruction sheet or from last week's episode. They tend to choose heroes like those who populate their cyber-world. Those latter are brash, ego-driven paragons, not exactly given to quiet contemplation.