Once in place the helmet not only muffles sound, it does a good job of
muffling thought as well. My interior monologue now comes from about
eight inches behind my left ear. No matter how many times you've gone
into the helmet, the sensation is unnerving for the first few minutes.
The interior of the helmet is filled with a garish clutter of
displays that glow too bright and too green. The readouts and
bar graphs remind me of the strip in Las Vegas as they flicker on the
edges of my vision, demanding attention. I cross my eyes till I can
focus on a particularly urgent looking display but the numbers mean
nothing to me.