Ten minutes to kill

One button, one random pointless website, no explanation offered or needed. The site that turned this whole genre into a genre.

Type anything at all and watch it drift upward and dissolve. Nothing is stored, nothing is sent, nothing can be recovered.

Nearly a trillion saved web pages. Paste any address, pick a year, and see what was there — the single most important archive online.

Race from one Wikipedia article to another using only links, against a clock and other people online.

A painting that zooms into itself forever, assembled by a dozen artists so carefully that the seams never quite show.

Live positions and finder charts for planets, comets and asteroids, updated continuously and free of clutter.

One photorealistic portrait of somebody who has never existed, regenerated on every refresh. The page that started the whole genre.

Invented dictionary entries complete with etymology and a usage example, none of them real words. Several of them deserve to be.

World clocks, time-zone converters, sunrise and moon times, calendars and countdowns, all on one long-running and reliably accurate site.

Reverse image search that finds the oldest copy of a picture rather than visually similar ones. The tool for tracing where a photo began.

Drag in PNGs and JPEGs and they come back far smaller with no visible difference. Nothing else to learn.

A daily five-minute roundup of tech, science and programming news, with every issue also readable on the website.

A quick whiteboard in the browser: sketch boxes, arrows and doodles, share a link and draw together in real time without making an account.

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

Tap any key in rhythm and it plays the next chunk of Clair de Lune, so timing is the only skill actually required.

Click to place a block and a small algorithm builds a plausible seaside town around it, with no goal of any kind.

Paste a single screenshot and it names the anime, the episode and the exact timestamp. Unreasonably accurate for something free.

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

Bounces a sentence between English and Japanese until the two versions agree, which they rarely do politely.

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

Drops you into a field recording from a forest somewhere on earth, tells you which forest, then offers you another.

The big one: broadcast radio, sport and podcasts from most of the world, free with adverts and no account needed to listen.

Fly down a rotating tunnel of coloured obstacles quickly enough that your eyes take over the steering from your brain.

Same idea as typing but with notes rather than drums — write a paragraph, receive a surprisingly pretty melody.

Type words and each letter becomes a drum hit, so your own name comes out as a loop you will struggle to stop playing.

Races you against real people typing the same passage, which is the only known method of making a typing test tense.

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

Uno against bots or friends, with the draw-four arguments fully intact and no cards to lose under the sofa.

High-resolution photographs from a huge community of photographers, free to download and use. Browse by topic or colour without signing up.

Flips your sentence using Unicode lookalikes, so it survives a paste into anywhere that accepts plain text.

Where teenagers make the quizzes: which sad indie song are you, which Greek deity would pity you. Anyone can build one in minutes.

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

Weather models rendered beautifully enough to watch for their own sake, with layers for wind, rain, snow depth and wave height.

Ship positions and port arrivals on a fast, uncluttered map, ideal for watching a delivery of your own crawl across an ocean.

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.

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.

Four-panel strips whose punchline usually involves death, drawn by two Germans with impeccable comic timing.

Wildfire incidents across the western United States, mapped and annotated in near real time by volunteers who sit listening to fire radio.

Forecasts built on a network of tens of thousands of amateur weather stations, so the reading is often from somebody on your actual street.

Winamp itself, reimplemented faithfully enough that the equaliser works. It really whips the llama's behind, in a browser tab.

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

Live webcams sorted by country and theme, from Alpine passes to Caribbean beach bars, with a great many pointed at completely empty roads.

Eighty live webcam effects, most of them terrible, all of them fun for exactly the ninety seconds required.

Drag through a full-screen fluid that swirls and bleeds colour behind the cursor, at full frame rate even on a phone.

Genuinely baffling real product listings pulled from the big marketplaces and presented with almost no commentary.