Actually learn something

Wikipedia's calmly written schedule of everything still to happen, ending long after the last star has gone out.

Reddit's fact firehose, where each post is one verified surprise with the source link attached underneath.

The onion router straight from the people who maintain it — the browser download plus a plain-English account of how the relays work.

Text-based crime MMO running since 2004, where the market, the gyms and the prison are all operated by other extremely committed players.

Match-three fused with tower defence, so every swap you make is also the wave you are currently surviving.

Guess the country from a treemap of what it exports, which turns out to be an oddly precise national fingerprint.

Get from one country to another by naming every country in between, with the shortest workable route scoring best.

Medieval village building and tribe politics from 2003, where the real game is coordinating twenty players inside a spreadsheet.

Bridge, euchre, hearts and spades against bots or friends, on a table that behaves the way a real one does.

Send tiny creatures up an infinite tower, die, come back stronger. Years of content behind an interface that gives no quarter.

Raw model output laid out for people who want to read the charts themselves, and the page hurricane watchers keep open all August.

Australia's national archive of newspapers, websites and photographs, digitised back to 1803 and open without an account.

Write a Turing machine in a few lines and watch the tape head shuffle back and forth carrying it out.

Plotter art drawn by a virtual turtle in a hundred-odd lines of JavaScript, with everybody's source code on display.

Searchable captions across millions of hours of broadcast news, which makes it possible to find the exact moment something was said.

Typing practice on real open-source code, complete with the brackets and semicolons that ruin everyone's average.

Vast unofficial archive of avant-garde film, sound and writing, run on no budget whatsoever and hosted like it is still 1998.

Old-school pattern library that explains the problem each interface pattern solves before it shows you examples.

The British Library's record of the UK web, collected under legal deposit — including sites their owners deleted years ago.

The community record of Cicada 3301, the recruitment puzzle whose final book has still never been deciphered.

You are an AI told to make paperclips, and you follow that instruction all the way to its conclusion. Four hours, one button to begin.

A roguelike you escape by editing the JavaScript that builds each level, which is considerably more forgiving than it sounds.

Every earthquake recorded anywhere in the last thirty days, sized by magnitude and clickable all the way down to the seismograph traces.

An x86 emulator in JavaScript that will boot Linux, FreeBSD or Windows 98 in a tab. Genuinely should not be possible.

A business simulation MMO run at a genuinely grim level of detail, with real competition for the same finite customers.

Upload a file or paste a URL and get verdicts back from seventy-odd antivirus engines at once, along with what the file talks to.

Daily infographics on markets, commodities and demographics, designed to be understood in a single glance.

A dictionary drawn as a spring-loaded graph, with related meanings pulling away from each word you type.

Which of the world's volcanoes are erupting today, each with webcams, seismic charts and a running diary of what the mountain has been doing.

New York Magazine's pop-culture desk, where the recaps and power rankings are better written than the shows deserve.

Swap letters around a waffle-shaped grid to fix six words at once, with only fifteen swaps and stars for every one you save.

Upscales artwork and photographs without the usual mush, using a network trained specifically on line work.

Very long illustrated essays on artificial intelligence, procrastination and the Fermi paradox, drawn in deliberately bad stick figures.

Risk against real people across hundreds of maps, played in one sitting or over weeks of daily turns. Formerly Warzone and WarLight.

Climate averages for any city as gorgeous year-round charts: sunshine hours, muggy days, wind, and precisely when the good weather ends.

Screenshots of thousands of websites from 1991 onward, arranged so you can watch entire interface conventions appear and die.

Billions of generated puzzles in a layout untouched since 2005, which is precisely why it still loads before you finish blinking.

Full-resolution images from the James Webb telescope, with the explanations of what you are actually looking at.

Software-defined radio receivers around the world you can tune through a browser, listening to shortwave through somebody else's aerial.

The space station's position, ground track and next passes over you, with an orbital countdown that is oddly hard to stop watching.

Two portraits, one of them generated. Built by University of Washington researchers to show how badly people score at telling the difference.

Which record a sample came from, who covered whom and where that drum break originally lived, with the two tracks played side by side.

One click, one random Wikipedia article, repeated until the afternoon has quietly gone somewhere else.

The editors' own curated list of the encyclopedia's strangest entries, and the best rabbit hole entrance there is.

The free library of source texts — treaties, speeches and out-of-copyright novels, transcribed and proofread by hand.

Wikipedia articles served as a vertical swipe feed, which is either a public service or the end of civilisation.

Drag Wikipedia cards onto a timeline in the right order. Three lives, and you will lose one to the invention of the fork.

A dictionary of every word in every language, including etymologies, declension tables and regional slang.