Safe at your desk

Industrial supply catalogue with half a million parts, organised so well that engineers browse it purely for pleasure.

Every part of a wristwatch exploded and animated in sequence, until the escapement finally makes sense.

Scanned film and broadcasting trade magazines going back to 1904, searchable in full text. The industry writing about itself, live.

A platform where creators publish their own dress-up games, which is largely how the genre survived the death of Flash.

Old School RuneScape's skill grind distilled into a pure idle game, with a free browser version that genuinely never ends.

Where each meme came from, when it peaked and what it turned into. The internet's own footnotes, properly sourced.

Runs an image through the exact stack of saturation, JPEG damage and stray emoji that makes a meme look reposted eight times.

The Star Trek wiki, maintained with the rigour of a national archive and roughly the same word count.

Hundreds of matching-pair memory games plus Simon-style sequences, scaled from toddler difficulty to genuinely unpleasant.

The one free IQ test people actually cite: thirty-five matrix puzzles, twenty-five minutes, no email address demanded at the end.

Trivia and origin stories written for the sort of person who reads the plaque next to the exhibit.

Weighted average of professional reviews on a 0-100 scale, with the user score shown separately when the two disagree loudly.

Multi-model forecasts with a meteogram showing how confident the models actually are, which most weather apps quietly decline to admit.

Name every station on a city's metro map from memory, and find out how many lines you use daily without ever reading.

Around 140 visual phenomena, each with sliders to break the effect and a vision scientist's explanation of why you fell for it.

Long-running blog of illusions and visual puzzles, from classic ambiguous figures to whichever dress the internet is arguing about.

Search the web with the top million most popular sites removed. What is left is the internet nobody bothers optimising for.

Factory building crossed with tower defence: conveyor belts feed the guns, and the guns hold the line while you fix the belts.

Proper Minesweeper with leaderboards, no-guess boards and enough statistics to prove you are worse at it than you thought.

Proper miniature golf courses with believable putting physics and no time pressure applied at any point.

Every train on the Tokyo rail network moving in real time across a 3D map, with the aircraft landing at Haneda thrown in.

The 2000s browser giant, now mostly a mobile publisher but still hosting 8 Ball Pool and a shelf of its own history.

Decades of archived puzzle hunts from the hardest annual competition of its kind, all of it still playable.

Screenshot library of real mobile and web apps, organised by flow, so you can see how everybody else solved it first.

Build a convincing fake post, chat or notification for a joke or a mockup. Watermarked so nobody mistakes it for the real thing.

Search any molecule and spin its three-dimensional structure, with spectra and crystal data alongside it.

The typing test that made typing tests beautiful — endlessly configurable, instantly readable and quietly addictive.

Live cameras on the kelp forest, the aviary and the open sea tank, plus a sea otter feed that has ended many working afternoons.

A live tank of sea nettles drifting in blue water, which has been the internet's default calming video for years.

Chop wood, raise windmills, then defend them from players who would much rather take yours than build their own.

MIT's trolley problem for driverless cars: decide who the car kills, thirteen times over, then read your own bias summarised back.

Builds a photo mosaic out of hundreds of your other photos, free to make and zoomable right down to each tile.

Time-trial motorbike stunts across levels engineered to kill you in a slightly funnier way on each attempt.

The bike stunt series relocated to a water park, where the traps are inflatable and no less lethal for it.

Filters every streaming catalogue at once by genre, rating and service, then hands you exactly one thing to watch.

A daily logic murder mystery with suspects, weapons and locations, solved by grid deduction in about ten minutes.

Art too bad to be ignored, collected since 1993 and catalogued with entirely straight-faced curatorial commentary.

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

Every format anybody ever stored anything on, documented with photographs and the dates it lived between. Far more than you expect.

An exhaustive archive of worlds built in a 1991 ASCII game creator, catalogued with more care than most national collections.

Type a band and get a cloud of other bands, positioned by how often listeners like both. Crude, ancient and still weirdly effective.

The open music encyclopedia much of the industry quietly relies on, editable by anybody and free of any label's marketing department.

The default anime and manga database and tracker since 2004, and the source of the scores everyone else ends up quoting.

Fictional US national park built inside a colossal living organism, documented entirely as tourist brochures and incident reports.

A twenty-level escape game from 2001 that defined the whole genre several years before the genre had a name for itself.

Live tracking for thousands of satellites, with pass predictions for your postcode and a map of everything above you right now.

Type a surname and get where it came from, what it originally meant and where in the world it still clusters.

The American government's public database of missing and unidentified persons, searchable by absolutely anyone.