Brain-in-Jar Disorder

Good news. I'm not crazy, I'm just a brain in a jar on a shelf somewhere, kept alive by a mad scientist or evil Nazi doctors , or maybe space aliens.
Not Matrix-type villians, more like 1950's sci-fi movie bad guys; the wild-eyed doctor in the requisite white lab coat, or a Martian in a rubber mask and a tin-foil jumpsuit. If I could see all the lab equipment around me, it would look a lot like obsolete broadcast gear, showing lots of big-ass vacuum tubes and giant dials and knobs. Undoubtably, it would be in black-and-white.

What seems like the slow plod through each day is just my recently unfrozen brain remembering my life, occasionally the memories flash backwards or forwards in surprising ways, but mostly I'm still trying to re-live 2004. It must be punishment for something.

I suspect I was found guilty of one or more heinous crimes, put to death and had my brain preserved so med students could study it, but I haven't remembered that far ahead yet. I'm not really looking forward to doing so.

It seems my visual cortex was damaged in this process, since the most vivid 'sights' I 'see' are blue damncube walls, computer screens and rush hour traffic. Sometimes I recieve messages on my imaginary monitor, I suspect these may be other captive brains communicating through some sort of telepathy. Or,perhaps this is what it's like for a deaf person who goes mad and starts hearing voices in their head.

Of course, I don't hear voices in my head.
I don't have ears, I don't even have a head-I've got a jar.