FINAL BLOG ENTRY

Top 3 Lessons Learned in Perception: April 27, 2008

Unfortunately, throughout my life, my obsession with color blindness has also been coupled with a lack of initiative. Upon discovering for the first time that people existed who could not “see” certain colors or who confused certain hues with one another, I was dumbstruck. What on earth did this mean? What did they see? And, like any child unconcerned with actual research, I usually stopped there. I remember that my first acquaintance with the effects of this condition occurred in the playroom of my best friend in elementary school. Her grandfather had painted a large mural of Disney characters all over the room, and I distinctly recall both the eyelids of the Beast and Minnie Mouse’s normally red polka dotted dress, being…GREEN. Boggled and a little upset that someone who painted such remarkable facsimiles of these characters could ruin it all in the seemingly easiest stage of the process, I asked my friend how this tragedy occurred. To this, she replied that her grandfather “mixed” colors up sometimes. This, however, did not really clarify the situation for me, and feeling a little rude, I stayed quiet.

The mystery continued to my adolescence, where it occasionally sprang up in daily conversation and then faded when there was finally time to study it. There was the boy who wanted me to pick out a bracelet for him that was not riddled with pinks and purples because he could not tell for himself, and also the colorblind guy that I dated for a while in high school. Intrigued with his condition and feeling close enough to him to share my interest, I was eternally asking him “What colors do you see right now? Can you tell a difference?” (needless to say, the relationship ended shortly thereafter).

Now, finally, at the old age of 21, in my junior year of college, I have finally stumbled upon the greatest answer to my greatest question….or rather, it was presented to me, specifically by Professor Boucher. Turns out, there are multiple types of color blindness, multiple etiologies, and contrary to my prior belief, the colors confused for dichromats are NOT seen as shades of gray. In Perception by Randolph Blake, it was noted that the person to first publish information about the topic in 1798 (the chemist John Dalton) did so, because he found that he was, in fact, color blind. Had he not first explored this enigma, I have no doubt that it would have eventually been discussed, but it is amazing to me how long this had been present in the world before it was actually documented. Dalton’s specific condition of color blindness has been given the term deuteranopia and describes a person who is missing the M cones in his or her retina. This means that he/she is lacking the cones which detect a broad range of medium wavelengths and often confuse red with green (Blake, Ch. 7). A person with deuteranopia may see the above color spectrum as the following image.

About as common as deuteranopia, as well as producing similar effects, protanopia is defined by a person missing the L cones that detect the range of longest wavelengths (Blake, Ch.7). The first image might appear to be something like the following for these types of individuals.

Then, there is the rarest of dichromacies, the case where the S cones are absent from the retina, and shorter wavelengths of the color spectrum are confused (called blue-yellow color blindness). To view the world (or rather the first color image) from this perspective called Tritanopia, the following picture is included (Blake, Ch. 7).

However, the range of color blindness does not end there. Anomalies also exist (called deuteranomaly, protanomaly, and tritanomaly, respectively) where the cones corresponding to each are not missing, but rather modified by something as minute as a single amino acid which alters the range or the scale of their wavelength detection (Blake, Ch. 7). Then of course, there are monochromats who cannot see any distinction of colors at all, and this is by far the rarest condition, occurring in only about 0.00001% of the human population (Wikipedia).

Thanks to this Perception class, I not only had my question answered as to how color blindness actually occurred (whether due to missing cones from genetic abnormalities or brain/eye injury), but I also finally got to see some views of the world as a color blind individual via the color plates in my textbook and the images (and video) presented in class. This topic discussed in class has given me insight on a prevalent topic, has helped me understand the whole process of vision a little better, and has also ended the guilt trip I always used to take myself on when I wondered what color blindness was, but never did anything about it.

I also wanted to give this class credit for finally teaching me about the ON-OFF representation of retinal ganglion cells. Although this information has been given to me in two classes before this one, I never quite clearly understood it, so…props?

Lastly, my third most important, most intriguing, and most delightful factoid of this class:

Gerbils are one of the few species of mammal that can see UV light.

Thank you.

*All images courtesy of Wikipedia, “Color Blindness”

Anamorphosis

4/20/08 10:35 PM

*For non-distorted views of paintings, see below.

My secret habit is watching online movie trailers.  When I’m not doing something for school, or briefing myself on news, odds are that I’m watching glimpses of future movies.  Oddly enough, however, I came across one three weeks ago that is ideally suited to this week’s blog topic.

The movie will be called Anamorph and it stars Willam Dafoe as a police detective who has to track a murderer that uses the art of “anamorphosis” to hide his victims.  I read that and thought “Animorphs?”, like the children’s books I had read when I was younger whose main characters could morph into animals.  First, I thought the title was spelled incorrectly, and then I wondered how on earth a murderer could use this to hide victims.  So, like any dutiful movie trailer addict, I went to Wikipedia and searched “anamorphosis.”

Turns out, anamorphosis is an artistic technique, used to distort or hide images in a drawing or painting until viewed they are viewed “correctly”, and then the image will be completely visible.  The first form that developed was called “perspectival anamorphosis” and aided Renaissance masters (such as Leonardo da Vinci) on their quest for new perspectives in art.  It involves painting or drawing an object in such a way, that from head on, the image painted within the scene looks proportionately distorted, and sometimes, the object cannot be identified at all.  However, upon viewing the work of art at the right angle, from the right direction, the image suddenly becomes clear.  The most striking characteristic about these objects is that even when distorted in the picture, even at such an early time in with the technique’s experimentation, the objects themselves are remarkably 3D in appearance.  Although one may not be able to see what it is, the perception that something is coming out of the painting is undeniable.  The artists employ several depth cues, including shading, size, and linear perspective.

Taken with Pre-Renaissance paintings, it is amazing to see such discrepancy between works of art created right after one another.  Pre-Renaissance paintings did not employ the same visual cues to render audiences a sense of depth.  Although they made use of shading, it seems they only did so to an immediate extent, and thus shaded each object the same way (to show how light would be cast on it, if it were the same distance from the observer).  Also, in many cases, size appeared randomized.  Some “closer” individuals would be painted much smaller than those people who would be considered “farther” away.  Also, evidence of linear perspective was poor (albeit it did seem attempted).  For instance, in some cases, the tops of building would still be parallel to the ground, when instead they should be drawn or painted at a slant.  Although aesthetic in its own unique way, when it came to perception of physical depth, Pre-Renaissance artwork just cannot hold its ground to the astounding experiments in depth and angle perception of later artists.

Bob….yuck

4/13/08    11:42 PM

I had never heard of synesthia until my neuroscience class freshman year.  Then, a couple of weeks later, a special came on 20/20 or Dateline or one of those shows whose sole topic was synesthetes.  There were so many interesting cases, I could not believe that the entire world had not been introduced to this amazing “disorder.”  For instance, there was the woman who associated specific geometric shapes with types of food and the man who upon hearing people’s names would suddenly “taste” something.  These were such strong associations, that certain names would evoke unpleasant tastes for the man to the point where he would actually gag (hence the title of this week’s blog)  So okay, I would probably rather not have that condition of synesthia, but often I think on how wonderful it would be to see colors flashing before my eyes as I listened to music.  Earlier in our discussions on color, we mentioned how much more interesting and beautiful our lives were just because of our perception of color.  Thus, to add color to other perceptive functions to me would be absolutely incredible.  Although of course, there are many types of synesthia, I tend to focus on auditory/color connections, because if I could be any type of synesthete, I would probably choose this one.

I admit, however, that I do have a hard time imagining what any form of synesthia would be like.  Would the colors flash in front of me?   Would they form shapes or change intensities?  How on earth could I “feel” a shape just by eating a food?  Would this ever interfere with my daily life?  It seemed that the people depicted in the special had no problem incorporating their special abilities into their lives, but one would think that making false associations would cause some sort of difficulty in certain situations.  I suppose I will have to be content to carry out the rest of my life pondering the situation of synesthetes instead of ever experiencing it for myself (unless I took some form of illegal drug, which is definitely not happening).

So now the main question for researchers concerned with synesthia, and myself,  is how does this condition arise in humans?  From my perspective, it seems that normally our brain integrates information from our various sensory pathways in order to provide us with the truest, most biologically and evolutionary relevant experience of the world around us.  In synesthetes, these connections and integrations almost seemed strengthened to a point where they are able to sense things which are not physically there.  This would imply that there are specific areas of our brain devoted to these intersections of senses, one for each type of pairing (touch with vision, audition with taste, etc.), or mathematically there would have to be at least (5+4+3+2+1) 15 of these areas to accommodate the number of possible types of synesthia.  Also, since the various case studies of synesthia are so specific (names with tastes), this would also suggest that our brain has developed to process information very, very specifically.  It could be that our brains are pre-wired to process certain stimuli together, and perhaps in synesthetes their conditions either arise from misfiring of connections, or an overall too strong response to the point where they are associating things they are not supposed to, or perhaps are able to consciously perceive associations of which we (the boring, normal people) are unaware.  In either case, this possibility excited me.  Studies have shown that our brains retain a surprising amount of plasticity as we grow older.  Thus, if synesthia occurs from mismatched pairings of processed information, would their be any way to eventually train ourselves to make these connections?  For instance, if I grew up in a world where every letter was actually a different color, and these colors remained constant over time, if after a critical period all the letters were black, would I still be seeing the colors I was so habituated to before?  It would be like the time I tried to teach myself to write left-handed, except it would be infinitely cooler and unfortunately, even more difficult to accomplish.

Awww….4/6/08 10:35 PM

In class we discussed how our visual system develops, mainly by looking at research done with macaques.  As in any field of science, the eternal question was asked, “Is [vision] formed mainly by nurture or by nature?”  and the automated response was given, “It’s due to both.”  However, it seems that vision is more so biologically hardwired to be environmentally significant and stable than be governed by our experience.  This helps to explain how we all (humans) see the world pretty much in the same way, until something goes wrong in our visual pathway.  Although it is fun sometimes to ponder, “Is your yellow, my yellow?” I think it is safe to assume that two people  looking at a glass of water can agree on what it is and what color it is, even if they may disagree on half full, or half empty.  Thus, the process of developing one’s sight goes accordingly to plan until something errs.  This could be a genetic defect, such as color blindness, or in a trashcan-raised kitten’s case, living in a world of horizontal or vertical stripes during a critical period.  When this abnormal, unnatural “world” is presented, the visual pathway must adapt (and indeed it seems to be highly adaptable during the critical period) to prepare itself for living a life in these current conditions.

Because our vision seems to predetermined, I believe that the many areas of our visual cortex evolved over time to be specific, environmentally specific areas.  As humans experienced and impacted their worlds and habitats, neuronal synapses were made and these connections became stronger over time, depending upon what they were usually linked to.  Thus, we have a vast number of different areas in our visual system, each devoted to carrying out or “seeing” a specific type of visual stimulus.  Scientists have already discovered an “expertise” zone, such as faces and bird-watching, and perhaps later we will find one for specific shapes, or even maybe organism-specific, like a “plant” area.  What is highly interesting to me, however, is not necessarily how these connections and areas formed over time, but how they may change in the future.  This would not only give us examples of how these areas differentiate and come to be, but also what specifically may have the tendency to change first.  For instance, now with electricity, many humans are constantly in the light, whereas evolutionarily, they were used to a pretty constant light-dark cycle.  How is this slowly affecting our eyesight, or is it at all?  With urbanization and construction, may we slowly lose a “plant” area to favor a “building” area?  I know these sound generic, vague, and probably too simple, but it is a completely new territory to be chartered and mapped.  The visual cortex’s unlabeled, mysterious areas will prove to be an exciting new area of research.

*Also, fortunately, the kittens depicted in the image will make it out of their owner’s plaid stage unscathed.

**I love plaid. I am in no way making fun of it.

Strangers, Gerbils, and Bears, Oh my!

3/30/08 11:10 PM

I must start off my blog with a really freaky coincidence.  Earlier this weekend, I was reading over the blog prompt to try and get an idea of what I would write.  Having no inspiration at that time, I decided to press the “Stumble!” button on my browser.  The Stumble feature on Firefox will direct you to a random page on the internet, completely randomly if you do not select presets as I have not.  Anyway, the first site it took me to was of a video presenting inattentional blindness just like the one we saw in class, except it had a “moonwalking bear” instead of the gorilla beating its chest.  As if the moonwalking bear wasn’t freaky enough, the fact that I was taken to that website out of the seemingly infinite number of possible ones was definitely unnerving.

Point being, I suppose it was a sign that I needed to discuss inattentional blindness in my blog.   Looking back on my life, I can only really think of one situation of inattentional blindness to which I fell victim quite frequently.  When I was younger, especially in a busy or novel setting I spent most of my “eye-movement” time glancing around my environment (i.e. mall or basketball game).  Because of this, I did not always pay attention to where my parents were walking.  This happened to such a great extent, that I would often find myself walking next to a strange person instead of my parent.  Thus, the person walking next to me changed (or rather I drifted next to a new person), but I did not notice because my attention was directed elsewhere.  I remember a very specific instance of this when we were leaving one of my brother’s basketball games, and I was walking next to my dad who was wearing a suit with a black coat.  Then, a few seconds later, I glanced up at the man next to me and said “Daddy,….” only to find it was a stranger wearing a suit and black coat as well.  Ha, I even remember him saying, “Well, I’m somebody’s daddy, but not yours.”  Fortunately enough, my parents were always attentive enough to already be calling my name or had me in their sights by the time I realized my mistake.    Seriously though, this happened so many times it’s a family joke.  Inattentional blindness….may either lead you to some serious trouble (getting lost) or some serious embarrassment.  I have to give my visual perception some credit though, for at least subconsciously sticking to the side of some individual whose clothing was similar to my parents’ at the time.  Not only was I taking in the larger picture of the scene around me, but I also maintained some level of attention to the colors of my parents clothes (albeit they were misleading at times).

Also, while studying this weekend I came across a passage in our book that I had not noticed previously.  It said that certain animals, including gerbils, had photoreceptors that could sense UV light.  Although this is more pertinent to last week’s blog suggestions, I was baffled.  Here I had had two gerbils for over a year, and had absolutely no clue they could see UV light.  So, I googled “gerbils UV light” and lo and behold, I came across an entire page devoted to gerbil eyesight (http://www.egerbil.com/eyesight.html) Sorry, it may be more than obvious I’m obsessed with gerbils.  Anyway, like humans they have both cones and rods, but unlike humans (since they’re diurnal and also more active at dawn and dusk) they have more rods than cones.  The UV receptors comprise about 1% of the cones and may enable the gerbil to detect certain foods, feces, or the scent marks of other animals.  That’s right.  Apparently, some scent marks emit UV radiation.  Gerbils are one of four rodent species that are able to do this.  As I glance over at them now, preparing their nest for the night and running (ENDLESSLY) on that darn wheel, I have to wonder how the world looks to them, what in this room, perhaps, is giving off the UV radiation to which I am blind.

Blog down, four exams to go.

Foveas!

  3/23/08 11:45 PM

Cortical magnification is a relatively recently discovered phenomena where a large part of an animal’s cortex is associated with a relatively small sensory area.  Thus, a tiny portion of physical sensory stimulation is magnified in the brain because more neurons and synapses are devoted to it in relation to perhaps an adjacent smaller area.   When considering whether or not this was a good thing, I had to look back to my previous learning experiences with foveas.  Upon learning how evolution has geared different organisms to have various specialized cortical areas, I find it hard to believe that cortical magnification of any sort is a bad mechanism.  In fact, it is quite amazing.

Humans, and most likely some other mammals (although I confess, I have not done my research into this) have cortical magnification of the visual system.  The overall reception field of the eye’s fovea is disproportionately represented in the cortex.  This makes evolutionary sense.  We have a neck to turn our heads in order to look in different directions, and usually our eyes’ main focus is in the center of our field of vision.  Thus, our eyes are tuned to focus in on this object and we can see it in clearer detail than we can something to the periphery of our visual field (thanks to the fovea and its greater number of cones).   Since this is what our mind would be most concerned with, it makes sense that our brains would have evolved to magnify this to an even greater extent by having it be represented with a greater amount of brain mass.  However, as I deal with this cortical magnification every day, I take it for granted.  Sure, I think it’s a good thing, but how can I fully appreciate how specialized my body has become for living like I do? …..I take a lesson from bats.

Once again, I am going to draw on knowledge from a previous class.  Most bats from the suborder microchiroptera are essentially what we call “blind.”  Their visual eyesight is rather poor.  To make up for this, however, they make use of echolocation which creates an image of the world around them, which is quite different from what we see.  However, how can they use high frequency sound waves to form pictures of their environment?  How on earth do they distinguish a food source from a leaf?  Where we have cortical magnification of the visual system, these bats have cortical magnification of the auditory system.  In fact, their highly specialized “fovea” is not associated with their eyes at all, but rather their ears.  Although the large area of their cortex devoted to audition can be compared to the same of our vision, the cortical magnification of their fovea is so specialized and complex, it is truly amazing.  Studies with some species of these bats have found that these animals have an auditory fovea represented by a greater amount of area in the cortex that is tuned to a frequency matching that of moths’ wing beats (moths being their choice food source).  Thus, their fovea recognizes a very specific sound frequency and the area in their brains associated with picking up on stimuli corresponding to this frequency is quite large compared to the areas of the brain for other frequencies.  That piece of information was hard for me to imagine.  Not only do bats recognize the frequency of a moth’s wing beat pattern, they can also tell at which point of the flight pattern the moth is in and whether or not it is moving toward the bat or away from the bat and at what velocity.  Yes, for being “blind” these bats sure can pick up on a lot more from their environment than I would have thought possible.  So, is cortical magnification a good thing?  Although perhaps it may cause slight problems (or rather we cannot focus on everything all at once like perhaps we wish we might be able to do sometimes), I am more than content to sit back, look at the big picture, and feel satisfied knowing that the human brain and sensory system is doing exactly what it has evolved to do to ensure our optimal survival chances….at least for now.

Eyes Everywhere

3/16/08 11:46

I absolutely love when information from different classes converges into a central topic.  Although at first, I thought I would have trouble coming up with a topic for this week’s blog, I realized how much I have been learning about different aspects of “eyes” lately in my classes, so the following is basically a summary of thoughts that I have had pertaining to my newly acquired knowledge of eyes.

In zoology and zoology lab, we learn about the anatomical differences between phyla and classes of animals, mainly in an evolutionary context.  Thus, we begin with “simpler” phyla of animals such as Porifera and Platyhelminthes before we work our way up to Arthropods and Chordata.  When identifying different body parts of a Flatworm one day in lab, we were told to find its “eyespots” and were informed that they weren’t “true eyes” because they were only light sensitive.  Before even learning about our own eyes, I immediately thought this was a little unfair.  I mean, they act like eyes for these animals, so why must we differentiate between theirs and “more complex” eyes like our own?  Then in Perception, I was able to learn more about our eyes, and really, when it comes down to the basic mechanics of it all, our eyes are really only “light sensitive” too.   No, Platyhelminths do not see the world as we see it, but both of our eyes only capture light and varying amounts of it.  It is more importantly the translation of this information due to the complex and seemingly mysterious connections of photoreceptors, horizontal cells, and retinal ganglia cells that allows us to see the world in such amazingly clear (well, as long as eyesight is corrected ) view.  Then, our brain is able to process this incoming information in such a way that enables us to do more than either avoid or move towards light, we have the amazing ability to see detail so well (in comparison) that we can, for instance, avoid stepping on a bug. Okay, so maybe I do no think we should change the labeling of “eyespots” but comparing the two at least made me appreciate my own eyes more and also think that my zoology textbook should be more specific than just saying that the eyespots are ONLY light sensitive.

Also, I learned that eyes can create confusion, not just their mechanics or blindspots, but their very presence as well.  While classifying the various orders of animals, scientists at first thought that the octopus and squid should  be placed in a higher, more complex order, because they have true eyes that rival our own.  Although they apparently cannot see in color, their eyes are complete with photoreceptors, ganglia, lenses, and even a scary looking, horizontal slit of a pupil.  However, thanks to DNA fingerprinting and genetics, researchers found that these animals actually belonged to the phylum Mollusca (class Cephalopoda), a few levels below what they had originally thought.  Thus, these true eyes are an example of convergent evolution between higher phyla of animals and these underwater creatures.  Also, interestingly enough, squids and octopuses are highly intelligent in comparison to their closer relatives.  They even exhibit observed learning and are able to solve basic problems, which makes me wonder if eyes and higher brain processes are correlated to even greater extent than we have thought (ha, or at least I have thought).

Lastly, in Physics lab a week ago we worked with lenses of different focal length and used them to project images onto a screen from a light source.  We measured image and object distances, observed whether or not an image was inverted from the original object, and manually focused the image in order to do so.  Although I will not go into great detail here about the experiments performed because I have already spent 3 hours of my life moving lenses along a track, I will say that this experiment coupled with my growing knowledge of our eyes, made me ponder the extent of the eye’s capabilities even more.  Dare I say, it impressed me? With most of the lenses, we had to move the screen at least 10 inches away from the lens in order to bring the image into focus.  Our eyes are able to accomplish this in such a small length of space.  Oh, not to mention they send our brain information so that the image is not inverted in our minds.  Point being, I am very glad our eyes (and contacts and glasses!) do so much for us so that we do not have to constantly walk to and from an object in order to see it properly.

3/06/08 Magic in the Kingdom 9:18 PM

I’ve had optical illusions in mind lately. Of course, that’s where they always are – in the mind – but I’ve been thinking about the topic more than usual, thanks to my experiences over the holiday. I spent a few days at Disney World in Orlando, where everything about a visitor’s experience is carefully orchestrated. In the Magic Kingdom, the park uses the visual technique called “forced perspective” many times in an effort to increase the apparent scale of the entire park, especially the Cinderella Castle. The castle is already huge, of course, but the park designers apparently wanted to squeeze every bit of majesty that they could out of it. They had the relative size of the windows and spires decrease in the upper stories of the castle, and the building is even angled slightly in places to make it appear to recede faster than it actually does. The effect is that the top the castle seems farther away than it really is, and the mind naturally assumes that these parts of the castle are much bigger and taller than they really are. This scheme is used on other buildings in the Magic Kingdom as well. On Main Street, where the castle is clearly visible in the distance, the second and third stories of the buildings are successively smaller, just as with the castle itself. The height difference is just a few feet and no one goes up to these floors, so the effect is very smoothly done. The buildings look taller than they are, and by comparison this also helps make the castle look larger in the distance. Perspective techniques like this are used throughout the park, sometimes in very subtle ways, and it adds together to create a seamless illusion that the park is much bigger and grander in scale than its physical reality. As a really dazzling example, the fireworks launched behind the castle at night appear tremendous in size.
Disney made its name by creating movies that are illusions in every way, bringing still drawings and fictional characters to life as beings that are personally familiar to all of us. With that in mind, it’s not surprising that the park would use visual illusions freely. The thing that struck me is how willing we are to be fooled in this way. People are rarely disappointed to find out these facts about the Magic Kingdom. Most seem to be even more enthralled that there is something like real magic happening at the park. In the same way, we do not question a costumed performer portraying an animated character – we were already participating in the illusion by adding depth and substance to the character in our minds. Contrast this with learning the truth about Santa Claus, George Washington and the cherry tree, or the moon landing…unless you believe in the moon landing, that is. When we know that we are witnessing an illusion, and that being fooled is an essential part of the experience, we are more than willing to play along – and the resulting experience, in a way, is just as real. So, why does the Cinderella Castle look so big? Because adjusting the proportions on the castle fools our brain’s judgment of distance and relative size. Why does the illusion work so well? Because we want it to.

2/23/08 Acoustic Learning 10:31 PM

How do we disambiguate sound stimuli so well, even when they may not be so clear?

I probably would not have been able to answer this question from my own personal experience, were it not for the earplug experiment (which I also happen to be wearing right now to block out the typical noises of a Saturday night). How on earth do we locate the sources of sounds so accurately? To think, that if our sound location were worse, we may not be able to find that hidden cell phone as easily. Arg! We might even miss a call in a desperate search without such a trustworthy sense. However, as I discovered through my wanderings with plugged ears and my self-given experiments with a single plugged ear, it seems not so much that we have an accurate perception of sound to locate various stimuli, as we have a wonderful complex network that allows our senses to harmonize with one another for optimal search results.

Even with a diminished sense of hearing from stuffing bright orange foam down my ears, I was still able to discern from where sounds were coming. I also realized, that this was much easier to do when my eyes were open, than when they were closed. From the introductory neuroscience class, we know that our brain is able to parallel process various sorts of incoming information. Thus, without even being consciously aware of it, my brain is automatically making decisions for me. This can be applied to sound localization. With the earplugs, although a sound’s loudness is decreased to a level of a naturally occurring soft sound, one can still locate it fairly well, at least if one is sure to keep their eyes open, even if their ears are partially shut. For instance, while walking to class (late) one day while I was wearing earplugs, I heard the faint sound of a discussion. Although I probably would not have been able to immediately tell someone where this talking was coming from, my head automatically turned in the correct direction. Why? I believe it was because my vision and my higher order thought processes immediately ruled out those locations where I did not see any people. My learning experiences and vision worked with my impaired sense of hearing to correctly find the two people in an instant. Now granted, it is plausible that they could have been above me talking in a tree, and I probably would have enjoyed it more had they been, but my brain’s natural instinct knew this to be unlikely and I turned my head in a more natural direction. Also, this does not have to apply only to vision and hearing. For instance, I could hear the faint sizzle of grill and use my sense of smell to locate the source of my next hopeful meal. Although I believe this would occur much less frequently, it is still another example of how our senses work with one another to help us get what we seek in life. However, our senses do not only work together, they also change to accommodate the incoming information from other sources.

In my neurobiology of behavior class, I learned about experiments where researchers either plugged a single ear of owls, or made owls wear goggles that shifted their eyesight to the left or right a certain number of degrees. Owls depend highly on both their vision and acoustic sense to locate their food sources, so what happened with the owls in the experiments above? Did they fail to thrive? Were they unable to correctly locate prey items now that their two most unconsciously beloved senses were not in tune with one another? No. Although it took several weeks to adapt to the incongruity, both sets of owls were eventually able to turn their heads in the right direction to locate their targets. They were able to learn from their individual experiences, and their brains had the plasticity to change and adapt their sensory pathways so their visual and acoustic information could match. In fact, researchers (from the experiments with the goggles) found that the neurons actually shifted their inferior colliculus -> superior colliculus synapses in order mirror that shift in vision.

*Owls, unlike humans, have one ear pointed downwards and one ear pointed upwards. Thus, when one ear was plugged, not only did it initially affect whether they turned their heads to the left or right, but whether they angled their heads up or down.

It is through my own experiences and those of owls that I have come to the realization we are able to locate sound stimuli so well because our senses work together with our previous knowledge of the world to subconsciously and immediately guide our behavior to what “makes sense.”

 

Also, perhaps this is inappropriate, but it is also 100% true and hilarious. The funniest Mondegreen I have ever heard, is not one of my own, but my younger sister’s. For the longest time she thought that the song “Venus in Blue Jeans” an oldie by Jimmy Clanton, was “Penis in Blue Jeans.” Does it make logical sense? Yes. Should it have made sense to her at such a young age? Probably not, but what can you do? She had older siblings.

 

*Sniffle*

2/2/08 11:58 PM-I’m last minute like that

Right now I have a cold. I also decided to go home for the weekend. This means, to my great dismay, that I was fed my favorite foods all weekend (thank you parents) and yet was unable to enjoy them properly due to a stuffy nose. Life is fun that way isn’t it? This did, however, help me reflect on this week’s topic about our olfactory system. I believe that smell is considered the “Fallen Angel” of the senses because it is never quite noticed or appreciated until it is making you aware of something you definitely did not want to be made aware of, or it is temporarily “broken” and you cannot smell those things you wish to.

*Side note* I just wrote an entire paragraph that I apparently suddenly deleted. I am obviously, not an experienced blogger. Bleh.

Occasionally we may exclaim “Aww, the flowers smell so pretty” or something along the like, but more often than not (ha, or maybe it’s just me) we are complaining about a disgusting odor and are partially condemning our sense of smell for being so aware of a seemingly irrelevant detail. I once worked at an animal clinic, and when I say “once” I really mean “for six years.” Over those years, I had to do many a task (which I will not mention here for the sake of anyone’s stomach who reads this), and I cannot think of a single instance or moment when my sense of smell made my job easier. Actually, at least once a day at work there, it made me want to throw up. I can stand the sight of many things, but a single smell could overturn my stomach so much, could induce such an emotional and physical backlash in me, that all other senses, including my common sense, had to take a backseat. It is here where smell gets its first attribute of a fallen angel in my opinion. I never really acknowledged it until it “alerted” me to an absolutely abhorrent aroma, and thus, in turn, I never considered it an important sense, but rather an annoying one.

But alas! Times change, you leave your job, you move on with life, and your sense of smell suddenly is not only readily mentioned but also appreciated. As much as I truly hate to confess this embarrassing detail to my life, I will, because it has become such an important one to me and is appropriate to this discussion. The smell I enjoy and miss the most is that of my boyfriend. He goes to school in another state, and I will also admit that he is the real reason I came home this weekend. I see him about every month, which is difficult to deal with seeing as how I’ve known him since kindergarten. Anyway, like any “pathetic” girlfriend, I miss him a lot and often. I can hear his voice on the telephone, I can look at pictures of him and other boyfriend-related paraphernalia, and yet nothing quite comforts me as much as snuggling with/smelling one of his worn t-shirts when I’m not with him. I don’t know. Maybe this is weird but it works for me. Point being, I have come to love properly working olfactory system and am currently without it. I hope this cold’s effects do not last much longer after coming back, because I will sorely miss my sense of smell, which is quite ironic since right now, my nose is sore itself.

I think we’re going to talk about how scent is linked to memory in class on Monday, and I greatly look forward to that.