The lure of greater realism leaves me cold. Say, the “mesh” skins kludged into Second Life with full body alpha: the more real their aspirations, the more uncannily alike they all become. A roomful of them dancing can get quite eery. If I needed more realism in my life, I’d listen to that lying bathroom mirror and that troll of a scale. I’d take the dog for a walk to the beach. No, I am a happy toon and a happy toon I shall remain — an avatar on some strange voyage thither.