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.