Shufflebrain

Continuity is essential to the theory of evolution. Try to imagine a tree whose branches are not and never were continuous, back to the main trunk. Continuity in fact during embryonic development is our prima facie evidence for continuity in theory among the species. Evolution is inconceivable in a simple, discontinuous arithmetic system. In the light of Bitterman's turtle, a straight-line theory of the natural history of intelligence would predict discontinuity among the species and render the theory of evolution itself no more defensible on formal grounds than the events depicted in Genesis. Bitterman's investigations deny a simple, linear progression from fish to human and provide experimental evidence for the evolution of intelligence.

We have not constructed hologramic theory along linear lines. If we had, we wouldn't be able to reconcile what we find. We would be forced to ignore some facts in order to believe others. Without the continuum, we would be unable to explain not only the differences and similarities of the species, but also those in ourselves at various stages of our own embryonic development.

The hologramic continuum, by nature, allows new dimensions to integrate harmoniously with those already present. It lets us explain how our biological yesterday remains a part of today within a totally changed informational universe. Even though we share the same elemental rule--the phase code--with all other life forms, we're not reducible to what we once were, nor to bacteria or beheaded bugs. We are neither a linear sum of what we were nor a linear fraction of what we used to be. And our uniquely human inner world begins to unfold with the advent of the cerebral cortex.

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Physiologically, the cerebral cortex was a near-total enigma until comparatively recent times. But two physiologists, David Hubel and Torsten Wiesel spent decades exploring pattern recognition in the visual cortex, first of cats and eventually monkeys.[13] They identified three basic types of neurons there, cells that would respond to visual targets of different degrees of complexity. Hubel and Wiesel called these neurons simple, complex and hypercomplex cells:

Simple cells fired in response to a barlike image in a fixed position with a particular orientation; those that would fire in response to, say, a horizontal target would quite immediately if the bar were tilted or if Hubel and Wiesel substituted it with a vertical or bar.

Complex cells were those that went on firing to a basically two-dimensional target. But the complex cells would not fire if the target's pattern became still more complicated.

That's where hypercomplex cells come into the picture: they were cells that kept on discharging when complex cells stopped.

The visual system must handle a great deal of information in addition to patterns: it must deal with color, motion, distance, direction--with a variety of independent abstract dimensions that have to be compiled into a single, composite picture, as do bars and rectangles and edges to make unified percept. Hubel and Wiesel analogized the problem to a jigsaw puzzle: the shape of the pieces is independent of the picture or potential picture they bear. We recognize a checkerboard whether it's red and black or black and blue. And we don't usually confuse a Carmen-performing diva flitting around the stage in a red and black dress with the red-black checkerboard.

We're always assembling informational dimensions into a single composite scene. If we go to a three-dimensional object, or if the object is moving, or if we attach some emotional significance to the input, we must either integrate the data into a percept or keep the subsets sorted into groups. And the integration (or segregation) must be quick. Vary the beast's capability for handling dimensions and we change its perception in a nonlinear way, as Bitterman did when he took the knife to his rat's cortex. Interestingly, it was not until Hubel and Wiesel began studying the monkey (versus the cat) that they discovered hypercomplex cells in sufficient numbers to analyze their complicated physiological details.

What we hear, touch, taste and smell may also be multidimensional. For instances, we may recognize a melody from The Barber of Seville, but our understanding of the lyrics may depend on a knowledge of Italian. And whether we're enthralled or put to sleep will depend on factors other than just the words or the music.

We also harmoniously integrate diverse sensory data. Thus silent movies disappeared quickly after talkies came along. We not only have the capacity to combine sight and sound, but we like (or hate) doing it which is a whole other constellations of dimensions.