Unexplainable

Norwegian classified ads laid out with no grid, no spacing and no mercy, unchanged through every redesign trend since.

A company worth hundreds of billions serves a homepage of plain blue links, unchanged since the 1990s and quietly proud of it.

Community for adding glitter, sparkles and animated hearts to photographs, still busily active long after the trend died.

Parody religion with its own prophet, apocalypse date and merchandise, committed to the bit long enough that you stop being sure.

One button that adds unicorns and rainbows to any web page, solving a problem that has never once been reported.

Alarming research site about a chemical found in tumours, acid rain and every reservoir on earth. The chemical is water.

Writing community from 1999 where each subject gets personal essays instead of an encyclopaedia entry, and the tone never settles.

The cult's own website, left exactly as it was in 1997 and still quietly maintained. A sobering artefact rather than a joke.

Net art from 1995 that looks precisely like your computer failing. View the source: the mess on screen is hiding the actual work.

Car leasing sold via the loudest website ever built — animated GIFs, a theme-park aesthetic, and a real business underneath it.

Los Angeles museum whose exhibits may or may not be true, with a website built in exactly the same ambiguous spirit.

Conservation campaign for a cephalopod that lives in trees, used for over twenty years to teach children about checking sources.

You can do anything at Zombo.com. The welcome message has been loading since 1999 and it has never once explained itself.