“The universe turns blue as it chokes on its tail”: An Explanation for the Zero-Homers

Only the whole universe was ever truly free, yet its parts are forever imprisoned. To be free from time, one must perfectly obey Newton’s First law. The Third law is the same, for two things that together are actually one, inmates of a cell built of causality. A universe of zero spatial dimensions can only have one distinguishable part: itself. Even for a universe diseased with mass, this would prevent it from separating into two parts that would function as a clock.

In the final collapse, light escaping from one end would eventually reach the other, a wave whose both ends are frozen in time, but approaching in distance as less of it exists, shrinking in wavelength; the universe turns blue as it chokes on its tail, like an integral in a complex analysis problem, closing on a singularity but never becoming it. Energy and fine structure are conserved by a topological loophole, suspending the universe over (or around) a true “death point” of total erasure.

The same went for every earlier collapse, of a finite universe whose worldlines would eventually see two walls closing in, creasing the sharp worldline bends at dimensional boundaries into a topological defect.

The dimensions collapsed, but they were never erased. The universe remembers them. The raw, isotropic information and unfathomably fine structure is always there.

When all ten collapse, the cosmological principle is fulfilled, even within the one distinguishable part.