It had long been just an imaginary realm, used only by scientists to describe a purely theoretical state. Whenever the properties of matter were observed to be so irrational as to defy explanation, it was simply said that "the physics break down." Asymptotic concepts unreachable by modern science, such as the infinite mass point of black holes or our universe at time zero, were the most common examples.
As is often the case with things we don't understand, we turned to humorous interpretation. In such an environment, life would resemble The Persistence of Memory by Dalí. Approach the center of a black hole and you would find the side of the road littered with non-functioning physics principles. Any complete model of the Big Bang would probably prove that cats bark and things fall up. It was all a grand intellectual joke of sorts.
That is, until it happened.
No one remembers how or where it began. On a random day at a random time in no particular week, the sky was suddenly green. Buildings bent in half and touched the ground, and tails chased dogs. Things were successfully divided by zero. No one needed a mirror to see their reflection – they could stare straight ahead and see what was directly behind them.
People, in fact, weren’t so much people anymore but rather a series of loosely connected blobs of goo. The notion of who was who began to fade over a matter of days as bits of this goo migrated between blobs seemingly at random. People would have been understandably upset at this loss of self had the loss of self itself not taken their anxieties with it. A collapsing worldview assumes a fixed relative position for the observer, and it would be hard to consider uncontrollable oozing in all directions fixed in any way.