Behnam Pourhassan

The cosmological debate is like two craftsmen measuring the same wall but getting different lengths. One uses a tape measure, applying it to nearby landmarks — Cepheids (pulsating beacon stars) and Type Ia supernovae (flashes of dying stars). He finds the wall is stretching at 73.5 arbitrary units.

The spiral of water draining into a sink spins faster and faster toward the center. In an ordinary black hole, that funnel ends in an infinitely sharp point — a singularity where the laws of physics break down. But this new work considers a different picture: the funnel doesn't taper to a needle but ends in a smooth, swelling bubble.

At the center of a galaxy sits a supermassive black hole, surrounded by a vast, tenuous cloud of dark matter. It doesn't shine or heat, but its gravity warps space and changes the rules of the game for everything orbiting nearby.