Browse 1,343 websites

A 1996 US presidential campaign website, still up, still exactly as it was. An accidental museum of early political web design.

Hundreds of dress-up games covering mythology, history and fandoms, drawn by actual artists rather than an asset pipeline.

The deck-building game that invented the genre, officially online, with a free rotating selection of kingdom cards.

An interface that forbids clicking entirely and makes you navigate by hovering, which is far stranger than it sounds.

A curated DOS library with working touch controls, which makes it the rare emulator front end that is usable on a phone.

Pixel canvas designed for thumbs first, fed by a huge stream of daily themed drawings from a mostly Japanese community.

Paste a website address and learn whether it is down for the whole world or only for you. Settles the argument with your router in seconds.

Single-player browser RPG from the AdventureQuest studio, with a long story campaign and jokes aimed squarely at 2007.

Isometric hack-and-slash that runs in the browser and does a competent impression of Diablo with nothing to install.

Team drawing race: two teams, one word, and the first side to guess it takes the round. Faster and shoutier than the alternatives.

Full flowchart, floorplan and network-diagram editor that saves to your own drive and has never once asked anyone for money.

Telephone played with drawings: describe a picture, draw a description, and watch the chain derail over twelve steps.

Move the mouse and flowers, mushrooms and grass sprout underneath it while a music box plays. No tools, no undo, no point.

Draw and guess with a room code, or play solo against the clock on the evenings when nobody answers the group chat.

A directory that has been curating this genre since 2004, including a great many games nobody else bothered to archive.

Short shots of interface design, illustration and branding from designers around the world. A mood board that never quite ends.

One button, one endless right angle, one car sliding off the edge of the world. The purest possible drifting game.

Tune a car, hold the handbrake and score points for angle rather than lap times. The garage is quietly the actual game.

Precise Hindu calendar giving tithi, nakshatra and auspicious timings for any date and location. Astronomically rigorous throughout.

Dashcam footage of a city loop with the local radio playing over it, so you can drive slowly through Istanbul while answering email.

Balance a truck over obstacle courses clearly designed by somebody who has never driven anything at all.

Search without the profile building, plus bang shortcuts that fire your query straight at another site. Type an exclamation and w for Wikipedia.

Yu-Gi-Oh played manually against real opponents, with every card ever printed and no automation to hide your mistakes.

Gamified courses in dozens of languages, plus the guilt engine keeping most people's streaks technically alive.

Thirty-two Wordle boards at once, thirty-seven guesses, no mercy. The logical end point of the whole 2022 craze.

JavaScript demos in 140 characters. The gap between how little code there is and what appears is the whole appeal.

A rotating globe with every wind current on Earth drawn as moving lines, and layers underneath for ocean currents, particulates and the jet stream.

Nature recordings from named places with coordinates attached, so you know exactly which rainforest you are sitting in.

Thousands of public webcams pointed at squares, harbours, volcanoes and building sites, some with archives stretching back decades.

The 2001 humour portal that somehow still updates, with the same mix of clips, pictures and questionable taste.

Interactive classroom illusions you can drag, toggle and pause, which makes the effects considerably harder to dismiss.

A search engine that funds tree-planting projects with its profits and publishes regular reports showing where the money went.

Drag left and right to slap a man in the face with an eel, at whatever speed the day seems to call for.

The carbon intensity of the grid across most of the world, coloured by how clean each country's electricity happens to be at this minute.

A museum of Google easter eggs that Google removed — gravity, the barrel roll, the mirrored search — all restored and working.

A fantasy city builder with elves, humans and a genuine research tree, played entirely in a browser tab and unusually pretty.

One sincere, specific compliment per click, written by people rather than generated. For days that have not gone well.

Enormous archive of emoji strings, kaomoji and text arrangements, searchable by whatever you are trying to say.

Every Google emoji mashup, searchable — pick two and get the official illustrated hybrid back as a PNG.

Upload a photograph and it rebuilds the entire thing out of emoji, colour-matched one tile at a time.

Shows you an emoji and starts a timer while you run round the room pointing your phone camera at the real object.

Search, click, paste, with nothing else on the page competing for attention, which is precisely the point.

Two emoji in, one hybrid out, with a randomiser for when you cannot decide which pairing to ruin next.

Every emoji with its meaning, its history and how it renders on each platform. Settles arguments in one link.

A simulated 1990s desktop with a working browser, games and applications, assembled as a preservation project rather than a joke.

The professional encyclopedia, still going, and a useful second opinion whenever Wikipedia gets contested.

An ASCII horse whose legs continue for as long as you are willing to keep scrolling, which is longer than you think.

Twenty-five years of accidentally poetic English on packaging and signage, photographed across East Asia.