"With the power shut off, the view is complete darkness. Weiland flips a switch and asks me what I see.
"Vague gray shapes. Big dots. Blurry edges." "Can you see the door? Could you walk to the door?" "Yeah, I could, if you want me to trip over things and fall down." "That's a 5-by-5 display. Hold on," says Weiland, "I'm going to up your pixel count to 32 by 32."
It's Weiland's belief that a 32-by-32 array, 1,024 pixels, should satisfy most vision needs. This is probably 10 times the count on Dobelle's implant and much closer to Normann's design.
Beside me I can hear Weiland futzing with the computer. There's a sudden wash of light, like viewing the Star Wars jump to hyperspace through a waterfall.
"Can you see now?" "Not really." "Give it a minute, let yourself adjust." "OK, I've got blobs and edges and motion."
Suddenly, things become clearer. What moments ago was attack of the Jell-O creatures has become doorways and faces.
"What happened?" I ask. "Did you up the resolution again?" "No," says Weiland, "that's your brain learning to see."
It's a weird feeling, watching my brain reorganize itself, but that's exactly what's happening. Beside me the fuzzy edge of the counter becomes a strong line, and then the computer atop it snaps into place.
I take one last glance around. Weiland is still not visible. Then there is a subtle shift in color. A drizzle of gray firms up, and I can see the white plane of his forehead offset by the darkness of his hair.
I look around: door, desk, computer, person.
So this is what a miracle looks like."
Link at Wired, with pictures:
http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/10.09/vision.html
The researcher named, William Dobelle, died in 2004: