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Combine shapes with union, subtract and intersect to hit a target silhouette in as few operations as you can manage.

One button, escalating nonsense, and no way onward except pressing it again. Works on a phone, which is the danger.

One large red button and a clear instruction not to press it. It gets increasingly personal about the fact that you keep pressing it.

Sweet wrappers collected and annotated for decades, arranged by how well the graphic design has survived contact with the present.

Profiles of thousands of American cold case disappearances, written and maintained by one person for decades.

The Australian team that built a career on television stunts, still publishing headlines that get them into trouble.

Every component you might need to build, with links to how twenty different design systems each named and handled it.

British satire in short bitter columns, mostly concerning the middle classes and the people who irritate them.

A reference of every chart type and what each is genuinely for, worth reading before defaulting to a bar chart.

Scroll from the surface to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, meeting every creature at the depth it actually lives.

Animal rescue stories with the video attached, engineered from the ground up to make you cry quietly at your desk.

A volunteer register of unidentified remains and missing people, matched by amateurs who keep on succeeding.

A scholarly reference to the whole genre, free to read, covering authors nobody else ever bothered to write up.

A playable account of why cooperation appears and then collapses, using game theory and roughly ten minutes of attention.

Bisect angles, find midpoints and judge parallels by eye, then get told in pixels precisely how wrong you were.

The original page describing the World Wide Web project, restored by CERN at its first address. Plain text and a few links.

Complete texts, timelines and scholarship for a writer whose entire output is public domain, on a site that has barely changed since 1994.

One of the first things the internet ever collectively lost its mind over, and it is still rows of dancing rodents and one loop.

Good news redrawn as illustrations by a designer who got tired of doomscrolling and built the feed he wanted instead.

A quarterly printed newspaper of good news and everyday heroes, illustrated throughout, with the archive online.

Punk and hardcore scene satire, written by people who clearly still go to shows and still resent everyone there.

Two Google search terms, one question: which one gets searched more? Your instincts are far worse than you think they are.

Aggregates everything the music blogs posted today into one stream, which is how people found new records before playlists took over.

Every interactive fiction file anyone thought worth keeping since 1992, in a directory listing that has never once been redesigned.

Jay Alammar's diagram-by-diagram walkthrough of the architecture underneath every modern language model.

Multiple-choice questions where the correct answer is a pun, a trick or an outright lie, and three wrong ones end the whole run.

One cat looking at a monitor showing a cat looking at a monitor, several thousand cats deep and still accepting submissions.

Coin-operated arcade cabinets from the seventies onward, emulated in a tab, attract mode and all.

Every possible page of text that could ever exist, already written, sitting at a findable address.

Scroll the length of an absurdly elongated shiba inu, with checkpoints and a leaderboard for the truly committed.

A catalogue of films, broadcasts and recordings that are known to have existed and cannot now be found. Some entries get solved.

A student sold a million pixels of advertising at a dollar each in 2005. The mosaic is still up, and most of the links now go nowhere.

Community-maintained film and television database with an open API, which is why half the apps you use are quietly built on it.

The listing that has catalogued live text MUDs since 1994, and still tells you which of them have people logged in tonight.

Long-form comics about grammar, cats, running and grief, from the man who also invented Exploding Kittens.

A proxy that serves archived pages as period browsers expected them, so a 1998 machine can still get online and see 1998.

The original fake newspaper, whose headlines get quoted as fact often enough to sustain a small correction industry.

A hand-maintained index of free books online, run out of Penn since before search engines were any good.

Five solutions-focused stories a day, from a team that has been running this beat since the mid-nineties.

A stick-figure Dungeons and Dragons party in a story that turned genuinely epic somewhere around strip four hundred.

Beautifully drawn strips that set up a sweet premise and then take it somewhere very dark in the final panel.

Sixty-odd propositions place you on economic and social axes, then show you exactly where Thatcher and Gandhi ended up.

Essays and picture galleries drawn from the strangest corners of out-of-copyright print, film and illustration.

Visual essays answering questions nobody commissioned, like which pop lyricists have the largest working vocabulary.

Campaigns for the right to repair and runs community fixing parties, publishing the data on what breaks and why.

Ten thousand sheep drawn by anonymous online workers paid two cents each, displayed together as one enormous grid.

Australian satire in short sharp headlines, which is roughly the national attention span for domestic politics.

Scroll outwards from a human to the observable universe, with each step making the previous one look absurd.