Peeping through my keyhold I see within the range of only about 30 percent
of the light that comes from the sun; the rest is infrared and some little
untraviolet, perfectly apparent to many animals, but invisible to me. A
nightmare network of ganglia, charged and firing without my knowledge, cuts
and splices what I see, editing it for my brain. Donald E. Carr points out
that the sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the
brain: 'This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since
it means that only the simplest animals perceive the universe as it is.'
-- from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, by Annie Dillard
