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Any certainty in the Theory of Justified True Belief?

If we make the common mistake that we are our brain’s and only privy to the beliefs we hold, it would be kind of like a Star Trek’s Moriarty not knowing whether he’s really on the ship or still on the holdeck.

Speakpigeon doesn’t trust the other characters because they might not be real—they could just be signals forcefed to him by some evil Geordi La Forge.

When you or I walk along the arboretum and see something large and heavy blocking our path, we walk around. When we see him walk around, we think he saw it too, but if the great mistake is made and he thinks he sees not a thing, what caused him to go around? His brain (or consciousness thereof) has access to something (but not the huge rock). There is a representative mental object that his brain has access to—or so the story goes. He feels he has no choice but to act as he trusts what his brain senses. Is there truly a door to the sick bay in front of him as he turns the corner, or is he stuck on the holodeck?

Never mind the reasonings for why we should believe what we do. How do we test it? Remember what he said about B’s and O’s? His brain (or any of our brains) has a perimeter fence that denies observation beyond the confines of our thoughts. When your inner movie plays and your brain watches, you can’t help but hope the moving playing is a movie of real life with a trustworthy and direct feed to the outside world with no distortion.

He thinks we really need to test that we’re not on the holodeck—and until we do, whatever it is we think we know is nothing more than what’s being piped in to us. To him, if we have to trust with no way to test, then what do we really (really) know?
 
It, our internal model of the word based on EMR, etc, stimulating nerve cells, is being constantly tested. It doesn't matter what we believe or feel about a brick wall standing in our path, for example, it doesn't matter whether we see it or not, or deny its existence, the wall does not allow us passage, we cannot walk through it. The wall is there for everyone regardless of their subjective model of the world or what they believe or feel about it. Nobody can walk through it. The wall represents objective reality.
 
If we make the common mistake that we are our brain’s and only privy to the beliefs we hold, it would be kind of like a Star Trek’s Moriarty not knowing whether he’s really on the ship or still on the holdeck.

Speakpigeon doesn’t trust the other characters because they might not be real—they could just be signals forcefed to him by some evil Geordi La Forge.

When you or I walk along the arboretum and see something large and heavy blocking our path, we walk around. When we see him walk around, we think he saw it too, but if the great mistake is made and he thinks he sees not a thing, what caused him to go around? His brain (or consciousness thereof) has access to something (but not the huge rock). There is a representative mental object that his brain has access to—or so the story goes. He feels he has no choice but to act as he trusts what his brain senses. Is there truly a door to the sick bay in front of him as he turns the corner, or is he stuck on the holodeck?

Never mind the reasonings for why we should believe what we do. How do we test it? Remember what he said about B’s and O’s? His brain (or any of our brains) has a perimeter fence that denies observation beyond the confines of our thoughts. When your inner movie plays and your brain watches, you can’t help but hope the moving playing is a movie of real life with a trustworthy and direct feed to the outside world with no distortion.

He thinks we really need to test that we’re not on the holodeck—and until we do, whatever it is we think we know is nothing more than what’s being piped in to us. To him, if we have to trust with no way to test, then what do we really (really) know?

There is no way to test it. It is a brute fact. That we can’t test it, I mean. We can only infer it. So then it becomes a question of how we support the inference (i.e., what evidence do we have)?

As to “what do we really (really) know” that needs to be broken down. If you mean in the strict ontological sense, then “to know” means “to directly experience.” A constructed/animated analogue can only “directly experience” (if we can even call it that) its own construction. Everything else is imbued. So it’s meaningless to even use the terminology of epistemology.

Only the body directly experiences a so-called “external” world (or what we would refer to as an “objective” world). The brain then processes all of the information gathered by the body sensory input device (which is really its primary function, with multiple different sensors providing trillions of bits of information every nano-second) and in some sort of feedback process, the animated analogue self helps the brain to strategically/critically assess the paired down information packets, if you will of literally every single instant of existence in a real-time animated fashion, with every nano-second a C + 1 redrawing (where “C” stands for “content”).

It’s the whir of that process that we call “consciousness,” but really all it is is a nano-second delayed drawing/animation of an analogue self that has been imbued with a false autonomy; it can be placed in all manner of virtual scenarios (“maps” if you will) that the brain likewise constantly updates based on other telemetry about the body’s surroundings at any given moment.

Iow, the brain is pushing the top hat around the Monopoly board it keeps in a separate file (along with the “Risk” board and the “Dungeons and Dragons” board and the “Candyland” board, etc., that it will instantaneously switch in—while still using the top hat—to see how to navigate through).

So the question goes to how the body “knows” anything. When it comes to the brain/self, it’s not about directly experiencing; it’s about maps and virtual, algorithmic constructs, etc.

How the body directly experiences is very simple. How the animated self is imbued by the brain not so simple, but evidently the case.

Are there aliens in between the input device and the brain—or no input device to begin with—causing all of this? Possibly. But since it’s not possible to ever independently verify such a thing, the question is utterly useless.

This is why there likely won’t ever be any extra-terrestrials. Any intelligent species that gets to this level of technology would realize that the little black box Moriarty exists in from that Star Trek episode is exactly what we will all eventually download into. Why bother with a body—or any of this universe’s perils—at all since we are already just brains in a vat? We can go anywhere, do anything already in our dream states, so we just need to take the next step to separate out the inferior material part.
 
So many branches to this monsterous tree!

A) I know that P is true
Vs
B) I’m certain (confident) that P is true
Vs
C) I’m certain (infallibly so) that P is true

Let’s look at each in turn.

‘A’ is often said about things, but people want to deny that ‘A’ is hardly ever true when they realize ‘C’ is false. Heck, I actually agree with them in that ‘C’ is false, but that realization doesn’t cause me to deny ‘A’. If anything, I deny ‘C’ for all those things often said about.

‘B’ has no place in the conversation. It’s introduced so that it’s not confused with ‘C’

‘C’ goes by other names. For instance, when philosophizing, it’s generally the case that one who emphatically says, “but you don’t really or truly KNOWWWW,” that’s their way of denying ‘C’.

Notice that ‘C’ includes the element of infallibility. If we’re infallible, we can’t be mistaken. But, the JTB is not a justified belief that guarentees that we cannot be mistaken. I know P when the justified belief IS true. How do we know? There’s an answer for that too, but it’s irrelevant, and if that path of reasoning was entertained and one concluded that a mistake is possible, then that too would be irrelevant. When a person has a justified belief, then with the exception of Gettier-type cases which merely point out that the necessary conditions aren’t sufficient, all that is left isn’t a requirement of infallibility and impossibility of mistake but instead the nonactuality of mistake.

Another branch to this bulky tree:

If there is knowledge (and I’m certainly (B) on the side of thinking there’s a lot for the having), who has it? Notice the “who.” The who is the person— not the organ that houses it.

More slippage:

D) the brain (or what’s inside the skull)
Vs
E) the entire person (brain, body, mind, toenails in serious need of clipping)
Vs
F) everything else that in fact will continue to exist when one dies (the rest of the objective world).

There is no direct contact straight from D to F. So, I agree that our brain does not directly sense the objects before us.
But, there is a direct contact (through senses) straight from E to F. That’s why I challenge the notion that we cannot directly sense the world around us.

Any link from the brain to the outside world is an indirect link while any link from the person to the outside world is a direct link. When I see a reflection of a woman through a mirror, one may say I saw her indirectly, but when I muster the courage to turn and gaze back at her, ooh, even without direct tactile touch, I have directly sensed her presence: the beautiful and glowing radiance and ever so subtle perfume tapping at my every offactory receptor.
 
That’s why I challenge the notion that we cannot directly sense the world around us.

Well, that's just a category error. What is included in the word "we"? The constructed analogue self; aka, the observer? The whole body?

I, obviously agree that the body directly experiences an objective reality. That is not the same thing, however, as what our animated selves experience, but I don't see a relevant difference.

Other than in things like, we--so far as the animated self knows--don't see (or, I guess, experience) the infrared spectrum or the like.

So, again, when the use of a pronoun is employed, what is actually being referenced is an illusory construct; an ongoing real-time animation that is merely imbued with just as much information as the brain deems necessary for that construct to be useful.

But it's always and forever a product of the brain. It's Pinocchio, but it never gets to be a real boy in spite of the fact that the brain simply doesn't imbue it with that knowledge. It's Pinocchio thinking it's a real boy.
 
Great, now I’m an illusion!

Just illusory ole me who gets pulled over by illusory cops in illusory cars getting illusory tickets to be paid for by illusory money. Philsophy gets on my illusory nerves sometimes.

I’m not an allusion. The word, “I” is a first person pronoun (a term) that refers to the first person (in this case, me, a person). I’m no illusion! I’m a person ... with wet shoes because I walked in a puddle of water while wearing them. Speaking of which, I need to dry them out. Couldn’t do that if they’re an illusion too. But gee, who’ll notice if everyone is an illusion?

Maybe what I’m talking about isn’t an illusion. Maybe what you’re talking about is. So maybe, we’re not talking about the same thing. You mentioned “animated”? Sounds a lil cartoonish, but the only thing I can think of is what might be called the inner self or the syncoffany of internal films depicting for the brain what it cannot itself directly sense from the world outward of itself.

Still, my brain (nor it’s animated friend) drove me to the store. I did that.
 
Great, now I’m an illusion!

The "self" is most definitely an illusion. Or, better, illusory. This is unquestionable. We have numerous examples of how such constructs are created at will by the brain, such as in cases of dissociation under extreme trauma/stress conditions, like childhood rape or during times of war. Or, even simpler, every single night "you" enter a dream state where "you" are convinced that it's not a dream state (until "you" awaken).

Or are you actually flying in a nuclear powered banana to Istanbul in the 1870s? No, that would be illusory, would it not? And yet your dream "self"--typically--can't tell the difference and even in the several moments after waking up remains convinced that "you" really were just flying in a nuclear powered banana to Istanbul in the 1870s.

Maybe what I’m talking about isn’t an illusion.

Well, once again, then, it comes down to a category error, like I said the first time. It all depends on what you're including with the word "we."

You mentioned “animated”?

Yes. The brain maintains a constructed "self" that is the analogue of the body/everything-about-us exactly like an animation, where it gets redrawn every nano-second (or however fast it actually is). Each time it gets redrawn, new information is added to it, only instead of it being like 24 frames per second (the way cartoon animation is), it's more like eight trillion frames per nano-second. Which is why for us there is the uncanny valley that animators haven't surmounted yet, but keep getting closer and closer precisely by adding more and more information into each frame.

but the only thing I can think of is what might be called the inner self

Yes, only you didn't think of it, I stated it outright.

Still, my brain (nor it’s animated friend) drove me to the store. I did that.

:rolleyes:

Once again, the "I" that is being referred to in that sentence is just a category. It all depends on what you are including in that category.

If you wish to refer to the totality of the individual--i.e., its body, brain and identity/consciousness/self-awareness--in one unified whole, then you can say, "I" of course. But there is also a matter of the "self," which is constructed and maintained (aka, animated) by the brain and the fact that the brain is merely connected to the various sensory input devices, so that it never experiences any of the external world that the body does directly, which is what gives rise to the hard problem in the first place.

And, again, we know the brain creates these illusory "selves" because there are numerous situations where the brain is damaged and such "identities" or "selves" or "personalities" whatever you wish to call them--"I's"--are broken or otherwise malfunction. And/or when you go to sleep, yet continue to experience.

Or are you going to actually argue that dreams are not illusory?
 
Two notions of "objective":
Objective
a. Existing independent of or external to the mind; actual or real: objective reality.
b. Based on observable phenomena; empirical: objective facts.

Definition (a) is metaphysical. We infer a metaphysical reality that we won't ever know. All we can do is believe there is an objective reality in the sense of (a).

Only the second one, (b), corresponds to the scientific method: Based on observable phenomena; empirical.

Pick the one you want. You're allowed to believe what you want.
EB
 
The self is not an illusion since we know it.

What is illusory is to believe, as we all do, that the self is something beyond what we actually know of it.
EB
 
Dreams are not illusory, although what dreams are dreams of may very well be.

The difference oughtn’t be lost on us, so I will dispel a common conflated notion. It’s important that when we speak of something that it’s not inadvertently confused with something else. A common example is the word and referent. I shall never feed or pet the word, “cat”; moreover, I shall never spell a cat or think it’s composed of letters.

There is such a thing as a concept. It’s a mental object (although not an object at all—but that’s for another time). The point is we should not confuse A) the concept with B) what the concept is a concept of. For instance, we oughtn’t conflate A) some mental picture of a chair with B) an actual real chair.

So, just as a cartoon isn’t illusory (gee, there really are cartoons—children watch them), neither are dreams; after all, we have them. We shouldn’t deny their existence or think they’re illusory.

What may be illusory isn’t A) the dreams. No, they’re perfectly non-illusory.

What may be illusory is B) what the dream is a dream of.
 
Great, now I’m an illusion!

Just illusory ole me who gets pulled over by illusory cops in illusory cars getting illusory tickets to be paid for by illusory money. Philsophy gets on my illusory nerves sometimes.

I’m not an allusion. The word, “I” is a first person pronoun (a term) that refers to the first person (in this case, me, a person). I’m no illusion! I’m a person ... with wet shoes because I walked in a puddle of water while wearing them. Speaking of which, I need to dry them out. Couldn’t do that if they’re an illusion too. But gee, who’ll notice if everyone is an illusion?


It could be said that you are an avatar that your brain constructs and uses as a means to interact with the world at large.
 
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Great, now I’m an illusion!

Just illusory ole me who gets pulled over by illusory cops in illusory cars getting illusory tickets to be paid for by illusory money. Philsophy gets on my illusory nerves sometimes.

I’m not an allusion. The word, “I” is a first person pronoun (a term) that refers to the first person (in this case, me, a person). I’m no illusion! I’m a person ... with wet shoes because I walked in a puddle of water while wearing them. Speaking of which, I need to dry them out. Couldn’t do that if they’re an illusion too. But gee, who’ll notice if everyone is an illusion?


It could be said that you are an avatar that your brain constructs and uses as a means to interact with the world at large.

Aka, an analogue.
 
Dreams are not illusory, although what dreams are dreams of may very well be.

Irrelevant semantics games. The point is that it isn’t what it appears to be. There is no “self” that exists independently of the brain creating it. In that sense, it is illusory. Made up; constructed; animated; imbued. Etc.
 
Dreams are not illusory, although what dreams are dreams of may very well be.

Irrelevant semantics games. The point is that it isn’t what it appears to be. There is no “self” that exists independently of the brain creating it. In that sense, it is illusory. Made up; constructed; animated; imbued. Etc.
It is not a game—though it may feel that way. When I hurt myself, someone is hurt, namely me, the person, the referent to the username, “fast” who if you took a picture of would display an image of someone who is not made up.

Now, there are mental entities which though the construct of language that have a non physical existence. Examples, anything traditionally recognized as immaterial: mind, concepts, ideas, memories, etc. No, they are not physical. They depend on the physical, but they are not themselves physical—despite what the confused ones tell us. To say of something that it exists is to say of something that it has properties; the things that exist yet that are not physical is distinguished from things that are not physical and do not exist.

We cannot cut anyone open and remove an idea and place it onto a table. We can’t do that with digestion either. Sure, we can remove the objects that give rise to those things, but they are not themself those things. What’s irritating is when people accept that things like digestion exist but clamor to deny they’re immaterial. Sure, there is a physical process, but try separating a moving object from its movement; you can’t place one on one table and the other on another. It’s the physical object that is physical. Motion is not itself physical. If motion ceased, the object remains.

You speak as if this “self” is what i’d call immaterial if it did exist. You deny that it even exists; made up even. But, not even the made up is necessarily non existent: it might just be non-physical. Like numbers or concepts but not like unicorns or invisible elephants. The latter two are not physical, but then again, they are also nonexistent. Numbers and concepts do exist, but accepting that doesn’t require to satisfy some insatiable need to protect the hypothesis that something is physical if it exists.

The brain is a necessary condition for personhood, but it’s far from being sufficient. When we put gas in our cars, neither the brain nor something made up is doing the deed.
 
Great, now I’m an illusion!

Just illusory ole me who gets pulled over by illusory cops in illusory cars getting illusory tickets to be paid for by illusory money. Philsophy gets on my illusory nerves sometimes.

I’m not an allusion. The word, “I” is a first person pronoun (a term) that refers to the first person (in this case, me, a person). I’m no illusion! I’m a person ... with wet shoes because I walked in a puddle of water while wearing them. Speaking of which, I need to dry them out. Couldn’t do that if they’re an illusion too. But gee, who’ll notice if everyone is an illusion?


It could be said that you are an avatar that your brain constructs and uses as a means to interact with the world at large.
I read your posts closely. You always seem to take great care in how you word things. Stop that so I can argue with you :D
 
I read your posts closely. You always seem to take great care in how you word things. Stop that so I can argue with you :D

I know what happens when the wording offers an opportunity for criticism based on semantics. Just a slip and you come undone. Not good.

As for this, there is nothing to argue. It's clear that the brain acquires information from the world, light, disturbances in the air or ground, etc, and forms a mental representation and experience based on that information, sight, sound, shape, form....sometimes flawed, distorted, even delusional. Never complete, yet constantly being tested against the external world as we move about our daily business.
 
Dreams are not illusory, although what dreams are dreams of may very well be.

Irrelevant semantics games. The point is that it isn’t what it appears to be. There is no “self” that exists independently of the brain creating it. In that sense, it is illusory. Made up; constructed; animated; imbued. Etc.
It is not a game—though it may feel that way.

:confused: When did I say it was a "game"?

When I hurt myself, someone is hurt, namely me, the person, the referent to the username, “fast” who if you took a picture of would display an image of someone who is not made up.

You're not understanding the concept.

Now, there are mental entities which though the construct of language that have a non physical existence.

Language has nothing to do with it. Or, rather, nothing primary. Let's skip the nonsens to:

You speak as if this “self” is what i’d call immaterial if it did exist. You deny that it even exists; made up even.

Again, you're not getting it. It exists as an algorithm; a feedback tool; the brain's diary. Do you not understand what an "analogue" is? Or, as, DBT put it, an "avatar"?

But, not even the made up is necessarily non existent: it might just be non-physical. Like numbers or concepts but not like unicorns or invisible elephants.

Yeah, you're really not getting it.

Is Bugs Bunny real? No, it's a drawing that only has the appearance of being real due to the manner by which it is drawn and the manner in which the drawings are projected in a certain sequence.

Yes, it's "real" in that it is drawn. Yes, it's "real" in that there is a projector and a projection and a screen. No, it is not "real" in that no such creature actually exists. No, it is not "real" in that its movement is an illusion. It isn't actually talking, that's Mel Blanc. It isn't actually firing a shotgun at a Duck, that's all an illusion. Etc.

Do you seriously not understand the difference without this unnecessary pedantry?

Selves are the brain's Bugs Bunny. How's that? Clear now?

ETA: Here are excellent snippets from a clinical study on dreaming from a neurological perspective:

In order to gain insight into the phenomenology and neural basis of dreams, it is useful to consider both similarities and differences between waking consciousness and dreaming consciousness, and to relate these differences to changes in brain activity and organization[11]. Perhaps the most striking feature of conscious experiences in sleep is how altogether similar the inner world of dreams is to the real world of wakefulness. Indeed, at times the dreamer may be uncertain whether he is awake or asleep. Certainly, dreams are not created in a vacuum but closely reflect the organization and functions of our brain.

In most dreams, perceptual modalities and submodalities that dominate in wakefulness are heavily represented. Dreams are highly visual, in full color, rich in shapes, full of movement, and incorporate typical wakefulness categories such as people, faces, places, objects, and animals[3]. Dreams also contain sounds (including speech and conversation), and more rarely tactile percepts, smells and tastes, as well as pleasure and pain[4, 12–14]. Experiences in typical dreams have a clear sensory character (i.e. they are seen, heard, and felt) and are not mere thoughts or abstractions.

These phenomenological similarities are reflected in neurophysiological similarities between waking and dreaming. For historical and methodological reasons, most electroencephalogram (EEG) and neuroimaging studies have contrasted brain activity during quiet wakefulness with that observed during REM sleep, when subjects are most likely to report dreams[15–20]. At least superficially, the EEG looks remarkably similar in active waking and REM sleep. Positron emission tomography (PET) studies have shown that global brain metabolism is comparable between wakefulness and REM sleep[11, 20]. Such studies have also revealed a strong activation of high-order occipito-temporal visual cortex in REM sleep, consistent with the vivid visual imagery during dreams (Fig. 1)[16, 17, 19].

There is also remarkable consistency between a subject s cognitive and neural organization in dreaming and waking[13, 14]. For instance, children studies demonstrate that dream features show a gradual development that parallels their cognitive development when awake[21] (Box 2). Patients with brain lesions that impair their waking cognition show corresponding deficits in dreams. For example, subjects with impaired face perception also do not dream of faces[22, 23] (Box 3).
...
Despite these remarkable similarities, what makes dream consciousness so fascinating are the ways in which it differs from our waking experience. Some of these phenomenological differences are accompanied by consistent neurophysiological differences.

Reduced voluntary control and volition. We are generally surprised on awakening from a dream (“it was only a dream”) mainly because we didn’t consciously will that we would dream it. In fact, during dreaming there is a prominent reduction of voluntary control of action and thought. We cannot pursue goals, and have no control over the dream’s content. The fact that we are so surprised, excited and even skeptical about lucid dreaming – possibly a way to control some dreams[25] - illustrates how dreams normally lack voluntary control[9]. Interestingly, recent evidence points to the role of the right inferior parietal cortex (Brodmann’s Area 40) in waking volition[26, 27], an area that is deactivated during REM sleep[15, 16] (Fig. 1).

Reduced self-awareness and altered reflective thought. Our dreaming consciousness consists of a single “track”: we are not contextually aware of where we are (in bed) or of what we are doing (sleeping, dreaming). There is a strong tendency for a distinct narrative of thoughts and images to persist without disruption (“single-mindedness”[28]). Indeed, reports of mental activity in REM sleep are longer than reports obtained from awake subjects[28]. Dreaming is almost always delusional since events and characters are taken for real. Reflective thought is altered in that holding contradictory beliefs is common, and a dreamer easily accepts impossible events such as flying, inconsistent scene switches, sudden transformations and impossible objects[29] such as a pink elephant. There is often uncertainty about space, time, and personal identities[30]. For example, a character may have the name, clothes and hairstyle of a male friend, but have mother’s face. Reduced self-monitoring in dreams may be related to the deactivation of brain regions such as posterior cingulate cortex, inferior parietal cortex, orbitofrontal cortex, and dorsolateral prefrontal cortex[15, 16] (Fig 1). Indeed, deactivation of prefrontal cortex has been shown to accompany reduced self-awareness during highly engaging sensory perception in wakefulness[31]. However, some dreams may have conserved reflective thought processes such as thoughtful puzzlement about impossible events[32], contemplating alternatives in decision-making[32], reflecting during social interactions[32], and “theory of mind”[33], demonstrating that individual dreams can differ from each other substantially.

Emotionality. Some dreams are characterized by a high degree of emotional involvement, including joy, surprise, anger, fear, and anxiety[34–36]. Interestingly, sadness, guilt, and depressed affect are rare[11], possibly due to reduced self-reflection. Some claim that fear and anxiety are enhanced in dreams to a degree rare in waking life[37], in line with Freud’s suggestion that dream narratives originate in perceived threats or conflicts[5]. Whether or not this interpretation has merits, REM sleep is in fact associated with a marked activation of limbic and paralimbic structures such as the amygdala, the anterior cingulate cortex, and the insula[15, 17, 19] (Fig. 1). However, emotions are feeble in other dreams, and are absent altogether in 25–30% of REM sleep reports[34–36], including in situations where emotions would likely be present in waking[34], once again highlighting the variability in dream phenomenology.

Altered mnemonic processes. Memory is drastically altered for the dream and within the dream. Unless the dreamer wakes up, most dreams are forever lost. Upon awakening, memory for the dream often vanishes rapidly unless written down or recorded, even for intense emotional dreams. It is not clear why this is the case since from a neuroimaging perspective, limbic circuits in the medial temporal lobe that are implicated in memory processes, are highly active during REM sleep[15–18] (Fig. 1). Perhaps the hypoactivity of prefrontal cortex, also implicated in mnemonic processes, plays an important role in dream amnesia. Contemporary theories of dreaming (Table 1) offer different accounts of dream amnesia. For example, according to psychodynamic models, dream amnesia is due to processes of active repression[5]. According to Hobson s Activation-Input-Mode [AIM] model, dream amnesia is related to a state-change involving inactivity of monoaminergic systems (“aminergic de-modulation”) and deactivation of dorsolateral prefrontal cortex[11]. The neurocognitive model claims that dreams are usually forgotten because they are internal narratives; unless internal experiences are tied to external cues such as times and places they are bound to be forgotten[13].
...
In summary, dream consciousness is remarkably similar to waking consciousness, though there are several intriguing differences. These include reduced attention and voluntary control, lack in self-awareness, altered reflective thought, occasional hyperemotionality, and impaired memory. Traditionally, dream phenomenology has often been compared to madness or psychosis[3, 11, 47], but in fact the hallucinations, disorientation, and subsequent amnesia of some bizarre dreams may be more akin to the acute confusional state – also known as delirium - which occurs after withdrawal from alcohol and drugs[48]. However, most dreams are less bizarre, perhaps more similar to mind wandering or stimulus independent thoughts[14, 49, 50]. Waking thoughts jump around and drift into bizarre daydreaming, rumination, and worrying far more than stereotypes of rational linear thinking suggest[51]. Importantly, individual dreams are highly variable in their phenomenology, and only some conform to the typical monolithic template that is often portrayed. Thus, just like diverse waking experiences, “Not all dreams are created equal”, and future studies should consider different kinds of dreams and their neural correlates separately.

What mechanisms are responsible for regional differences in brain activity between waking and REM sleep, and thus presumably for some of the cognitive differences between waking and dreaming? Single-unit physiology indicates that generally, cortical activity in REM sleep reaches similar levels as found in active wake (Fig. 2), but variability between brain areas remains poorly explored. Regional differences may likely stem from changes in the activity of neuromodulatory systems (Fig. 2). During REM sleep, acetylcholine is alone in maintaining brain activation, whereas monoaminergic systems are silent, an observation that could explain many features of dreams[11]. For example, consistent with imaging results, cholinergic innervation is stronger in limbic and paralimbic areas than in dorsolateral prefrontal cortex[52], which may explain why limbic regions are highly active in REM sleep while dorsolateral prefrontal cortex is deactivated (Fig. 1). Dopaminergic modulation may also play a role[23], since dreaming is decreased by prefrontal leucotomies that cut dopaminergic fibers[53] and is increased by dopaminergic agonists[23] (Table 1 and Fig. 2).
...
On the whole, relating typical dreams to the neurophysiology of REM sleep has proven to be a useful starting point for revealing the neural basis of dreaming. However, dream consciousness can not be reduced to brain activity in REM sleep. Indeed, some fundamental questions concerning the relationship between the brain and dreaming linger on. We shall discuss three in turn: i) what determines the level of consciousness during sleep; ii) why the dreamer is disconnected from the environment; and iii) whether dreams are more akin to perception or to imagination.

Much more at the link of course.

ETAETA: This bit is particularly interesting (the "thalamic gate") and relevant to the discussion:

The disconnection of the dreamer poses an intriguing paradox, especially if one considers that dreams involve vivid sensory experiences, and that they can occur upon a state of strong cortical activation. Several possibilities come to mind. For example, it has been suggested that during sleep a thalamic “gate” may close and sensory inputs may not reach the cortex effectively[87]. However, evoked responses in primary sensory cortices are largely preserved during REM sleep[88, 89]. Also, olfactory stimuli are not directly incorporated in dreams[90], though they are not routed through the thalamus (their emotional valence, however, may affect dreams). A related notion is that of a cortical “gate” leading to diminished inter-cortical propagation[91], as seems to be the case in the dissociation of primary visual cortex (V1) from high-order visual cortex in REM sleep[18]. It would be interesting to establish whether direct activation of cortical areas can overcome the disconnection from the environment. For example, can TMS over V1 or area MT bypass thalamic or cortical “gates” and produce sensations of phosphenes or movement in dream consciousness?

An intriguing possibility concerns the putative antagonism between externally oriented cortical networks and internally oriented, default-mode networks[92, 93]. Perhaps in dreams intrinsic activity dominates, as it does during stimulus-independent thoughts in wake[50]. This may occur at the expense of the processing of external stimuli, leading to disconnection from the environment. Indeed, both PET and magnetoencephalography (MEG) suggest that medial prefrontal cortex, a part of the default network, is highly active in REM sleep[16, 17, 94] as it is during wakeful rest (Fig. 1). Conversely, other components of the default network, including posterior cingulate and inferior parietal cortices, are deactivated in REM sleep[15, 16], as in highly-engaging waking tasks (Fig. 1). The exact cognitive task associated with the default-mode network is still not well understood[95] and it may be primarily driven by self-related introspective processes rather than general mind wandering[31, 96, 97]. Indeed, since most nodes of this network are deactivated in REM dreaming and mental imagery[98], cognitive states that are oriented internally but away from the self do not seem sufficient to elicit activity in this network.

Another possibility is that dreams may be analogous to altered states of consciousness in which attention is profoundly altered, as may be the case in extreme absorption, hypnosis, neglect[99], and Balint s syndrome, when visual experience may persist for single but unlocalizable objects (simultanagnosia)[100, 101]. The reticular thalamic nucleus has been implicated in redirecting attention across modalities[102, 103] and its activity in sleep may underlie some aspects of disconnection. It would also be interesting to determine whether neuronal correlates of momentary lapses of attention[104] occur regularly while dreaming.

Finally, as we have seen, the neuromodulatory milieu changes drastically in sleep (Fig. 2). Specifically, the levels of norepinephrine, serotonin, histamine, and hypocretin are greatly reduced in REM sleep compared to wake, so the presence of one or more of these neuromodulators may be necessary for external stimuli to be incorporated into our stream of consciousness. This search can be narrowed down by considering cataplexy, which affects people with narcolepsy[105]. Cataplexy is a transient episode of muscle tone loss in which humans report that awareness of external stimuli is preserved, and presumably animals are likewise aware of their environment during cataplectic attacks. Neuromodulatory activity in cataplectic dogs is largely similar to that in REM sleep except that levels of histamine are high, much like during wakefulness[105]. It thus seems that levels of histamine are correlated with our ability to incorporate sensory stimuli into conscious experience. It would be important to establish whether histamine is indeed necessary for such incorporation, and how it may do so. For instance, could it be that in wakefulness histaminergic tone facilitates transmission of feed-forward sensory inputs in cortical layer 4, at the expense of backward signal propagation?
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Whether dreams are generated in a “bottom-up” or a “top-down” manner is a question that has been asked since at least Aristotle[106]. To put the question in a modern context, do dreams start from activity in low-level sensory areas, which is then interpreted and synthesized by higher-order areas, as is presumably the case in waking perception? Or do they begin as wishes, abstract thoughts, and memories deep in the brain, which are then enriched with perceptual and sensory aspects, as in imagination? Of course, it is possible that such a dichotomy is misguided, and dreams may be best conceptualized as global attractors that emerge simultaneously over many brain areas. However, as we shall see, the available data do indeed suggest that there may be a privileged direction of dream generation.
 
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See, hysteria.
EB
 
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