[From Bill Powers (w2009.089.23.0642 MDT)]
[From Avery Andrews (2009.09.23.0807 AEST)]
I would guess that the idea came from computer registers ... so that once I've noticed where all these things are, I don't have to look for them again each time I turn my back on one of them.
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Also moving around in dynamic environments, for example if somebody or something is moving, and you can assign to it a register that contains its velocity information, then you can generate rough predictions of where it is now for a while without having to look at it continuously.
OK, it makes more sense now. Not the idea of "registers" attached to an "it", but the observation that we have to account somehow for the ability to "know where something is" in relation to us.
I'm sitting with my back to a door, but I know it's there. Part of the knowing is a very sketchy image of the door as it would look if I turned around. Another part of it is a sort of awareness of the back of my head, the part of me that is toward the door right now. I can imagine now reaching backward to point toward the door. Imagination mode, of course.
The idea that seems to fit for me is that of a "map", or a 3-D mental model like a diorama. The "register" concept would suggest just storing numerical coordinates and verbal descriptions (as in your example of the "deer" at a "30-degree" angle), but I think that's probably pretty rare. I don't see "door" or "180 degrees", I see the image of the door (sort of) and feel a relationship to it, in analog form.
The 3-D map idea also comes into play in accounting for the way vision and the other senses like kinesthesia get calibrated in terms of each other. It's as if there is some common framework that gets built up, and something translates directional and location information into that framework with a suitable set of rotations, translations, and magnifications to make the different representations agree with each other. When, with my eyes closed, I reach my arm out so it feels "straight ahead," it also looks "straight ahead" when I open my eyes. Putting funny glasses on messes up the mutual calibration and it takes a while for agreement to be re-established, and taking them off afterward requires re-calibration. Knowing where things are would then entail looking in imagination at this mental model. You'd still have to search for them as you do when they're in the real field of view, of course, but you'd be looking about in the right direction.
Tim Carey put me onto a book called "The brain that changes itself," by Norman Doidge [sic], MD (which my local public library had). It's about the extreme plasticity of the brain being observed in modern times, completely contrary to some strong beliefs about the brain's ability to reorganize held in the past (Doidge uses the term "reorganize"). The examples are very illuminating though unfortunately the theoretical framework in which they're described is pretty primitive SR stuff. I can't say I read every chapter with equal attention, but one series of experiments I did read about is relevant to this "intercalibration map" idea. For example, the experimenter has you hold your hand palm up under a table so you can't see it, and starts tapping the table top above your hand. At the same time he reaches under the table and taps the palm of your hand in unison with the taps on top. After a short time, you allegedly feel the tapping as if it's being felt on the table top you can see instead of down where your real hand is that you can't see. I tried it on my knee under the table but could't get the illusion, probably because I could feel myself tapping the table top with one hand and my knee with the other. I haven't had a chance to try this with someone else.
There's another you can do alone: cross your middle finger over your index finger far enough so you can slide a pencil longitudinally against the V between the fingertips, like operating a miniature saw or violin bow. Close your eyes while doing this, and you'll feel after a while that there are two pencils. I've never been able to recalibrate that one to where it feels like one pencil again, though just at first the experience wobbles back and forth between one and two. Oops, there, I just made it go back to one by looking at it.
[Strange phrases that suddenly make sense. "I just made it go back to one" is total nonsense outside the context above. Theodore Sturgeon wrote a short story with the baffling title, "To Here and the Easel." It was about an artist who, in the middle of painting a picture, is transported into a different world of fantasy in some distant place (I forget the details), and finally describes finding himself returned to here and the easel. Then there was "An adventure in the yolla bolly middle eel wilderness" which I leave as an exercise for readers not familiar with California (as I wasn't when I encountered the story in F&SF).] Once you know the context these phrases all make sense, but not until then.
It's pretty obvious that our PCT model of the brain is only scratching the surface. It could be that perceptual functions in the brain are really ALL reorganization with NO preorganization into levels. That would imply that the levels which do show up in similar form in different people are a result of the interaction of the brain with Real Reality, so there is really some external organization with similar degrees of freedom. A real comfort to naive realists.
And this would help explain how it is that blind people given a matrix of vibrations on their backs, mapped from a video camera, start seeing very much as sighted people do, though with lower resolution. Newborn ferrets that had their optic nerves surgically relocated to their auditory cortexes started acting as if they could see, and the auditory cortex, if I'm recalling this right, began to take on the anatomical appearance of the visual cortex in normal animals.
And when you use a cane as a blind person does, with your eyes closed, you start feeling objects with the tip of the cane instead of your hand. Use a ball-point pen's tip to feel the shape of your coffee cup, eyes closed. I just tried it, and it works fine. Wierd!
Best,
Bill P.