Collection
The entries that survive every re-cut of this directory. Consistently the ones people send on, come back to, and remember years later.
139 sites · page 2 of 3
The one most people name as the best tower defence: four tower types, hero units and levels that reward replanning.
The reference desk of internet culture, with sourced origins and dates for jokes you never knew had a paper trail.
Fitts, Hick, Jakob and the rest, each with a plain explanation and a poster you will end up printing out.
Ableton's free course on beats, basslines and song structure, taught by handing you the instruments inside the page.
Log films, rate them, and read reviews by people trying to be funny rather than professional. The social network cinema deserved.
Free chess with no adverts, no account required and an analysis engine better than the paid ones, funded entirely by donations.
Start with four elements and work towards seven hundred, most of which are jokes you only understand on arrival.
Thousands of curated palettes, from Game Boy green to 64-colour monsters, each downloadable in every format going.
Drops you on a random road somewhere on Earth in Street View and leaves you to work out where you are, or simply wander off down it.
Around 140 visual phenomena, each with sliders to break the effect and a vision scientist's explanation of why you fell for it.
The typing test that made typing tests beautiful — endlessly configurable, instantly readable and quietly addictive.
Thousands of DOS games, each booting in the browser on click. No download, no configuration, no floppy disk swapping.
A daily logic murder mystery with suspects, weapons and locations, solved by grid deduction in about ten minutes.
The default anime and manga database and tracker since 2004, and the source of the scores everyone else ends up quoting.
Hundreds of calibrated soundscapes with ten-slider equalisers, built by an audio engineer who takes tinnitus relief seriously.
Neal Agarwal's collection of interactive toys and explainers, every one of them built far better than it needed to be.
A free host built as a deliberate successor to GeoCities, full of hand-written personal pages by people who wanted to make one.
The link at the end of every bait-and-switch since 2007, and the reason nobody fully trusts a shortened URL.
The chaotic original, still hosting animation and games uploaded since 1999, and still the least sanitised corner of the web.
The pop-tart cat, the rainbow and the song, with a counter for how many seconds of your life you have handed over.
The 2007 build of RuneScape, still updated by player vote and still fully playable in a browser tab you should not have open.
Browses the archives through emulated period browsers, so an old page renders the way it did rather than the way Chrome guesses.
Where English words came from, sourced and dated, compiled by one man who has been at it since 2000.
Spin a globe, drop on a city, hear whatever its local radio is playing right now. Works best somewhere you have never been.
Oxford's open charts on poverty, energy, health and war, with the underlying data downloadable from every single one.
Every letter on the keyboard fires a sound and a matching shape, and mashing the whole row is the correct way to use it.
Colorado's library of physics, chemistry and maths simulations, used in classrooms everywhere and free to meddle with.
Airtight's glitch lab, stacking VHS tracking errors, pixel sorting and RGB shift over a photo, a clip or your webcam.
Photoshop in a browser tab, layers and all, and it opens Sketch and XD files too. One developer, no sign-up, ads pay for the whole thing.
A Japanese platform hosting tens of thousands of illustrator-made avatar makers, each one in a completely different style.
Put your cursor anywhere on the page and it finds a photograph of a person pointing at exactly that spot.
A radio station styled as a 1980s Macintosh, playing the sort of music that assumes you are near a pool and not at work.
A properly staffed magazine covering what is going right, funded by its readers rather than by outrage.
Thousands of American industrial, educational and advertising films, all public domain and all quietly extraordinary.
Britain's satirical fortnightly, half jokes and half genuine investigative reporting, in print since 1961.
Seventy thousand public domain books, plain and free, from the oldest digital library on the internet.
Doodle six things in twenty seconds while a neural net shouts guesses at you. The training set it produced now runs to fifty million drawings.
Four keys drive the four thigh and calf muscles of one Olympic sprinter, and none of them cooperate. The original rage game.
Spin a globe covered in green dots and drop the needle on a live local station anywhere on Earth. The buffering is part of the charm.
Half an hour of rain and distant thunder on a loop, running since before background noise was a productivity category.
Pixel American football hiding a full franchise manager behind six-second passing plays. Has ruined more workdays than it should have.
The Cube Escape series in full and free — bleak Dutch point-and-click rooms with a lake, a lot of birds and a plot you assemble sideways.
Daily gag strips about science, philosophy and human awfulness, each hiding an extra panel behind the red button.
Collaborative fiction dressed as containment paperwork for anomalous objects, written by thousands of people in one clinical deadpan.
Recipes that explain the science first and then tell you what to do. The food-lab pieces are why it has the reputation it has.
Forty logic puzzles on one page, each generated fresh and each solvable by pure reasoning. The interface is ancient and it does not matter.
Draw the word, guess everyone else's, share one link with the group. The default browser party game, and deservedly so.
Grow a snake on glowing pellets and cut other players off so they burst into more of them. The .io boom started here.