Ten minutes to kill

Listener-funded, advert-free channels out of San Francisco, Drone Zone and Groove Salad among them, going since the dial-up era.

Grid sequencer with a marimba and a drum kit, tuned so that anything you tap sounds passable, then shared as a link.

The South Park character maker that has been running since 1999 and still gets updated with props from new episodes.

Ride a lift from the ground to geostationary orbit, passing every layer of atmosphere and satellite on the way.

The original film's promotional site, left online untouched for nearly thirty years and preserved when the sequel arrived.

Code typing drills across a dozen languages, where the indentation is handled for you and the punctuation certainly is not.

NASA's tracker for when the space station is visible from where you live, with sighting alerts by email.

Constructive journalism collected from other outlets into one free feed, so somebody else does all the sifting.

Compare image codecs side by side with a draggable split, and see precisely what each quality setting costs you.

Wiggle the mouse and a black worm follows; wiggle harder and it strobes violently, so treat the epilepsy warning seriously.

Search results passed through without the tracking, plus an option to open any result through a proxy so the site never sees your address.

Ask a sports question in plain English and get the actual numbers back with a chart. Ends pub arguments in about four seconds.

The planetarium in a browser tab — set your location and it shows exactly what is above you right now.

Swing a stick figure between grapple points using one button, then trust momentum to carry the mistake.

A word search with a theme you have to deduce first, and one spangram threading corner to corner through the grid.

The endless runner that ate mobile gaming, in a browser tab with the trains, the hoverboards and the shouting guard intact.

Drop fruit into a box, merge matching pairs and watch the pile creep towards the line. Physics does the rest of the work.

Tick off what is genuinely in your cupboards and it ranks the recipes you can make right now, with nothing missing.

Name something you liked and it returns things with the same texture, spanning films, books, music and games at once.

A collaborative database of example sentences translated across languages, better than any dictionary for context.

Non-commercial web search indexing only pages carrying no ads or trackers at all. A very small and very different internet.

Sprint away from a large monkey along a crumbling temple path, dying at the same badly signposted corner every time.

The other GIF keyboard, with better tagging for reaction clips and a sticker library your phone already quietly uses.

Graded summaries of the terms you agreed to without reading, with the specific alarming clause quoted. Volunteer-run since 2012.

One click copies the Lenny face, the shrug or the look of disapproval to your clipboard, correctly escaped.

Type a word, pick from several hundred FIGlet fonts, and get the enormous ASCII banner your terminal deserves.

Converts an uploaded photograph into ASCII, HTML or coloured text art, with the character density under your control.

An air horn in a browser tab, installable offline, built by Google engineers as a demo and adopted as a weapon.

A personality test that assigns you one of forty-odd animals, with write-ups considerably sharper than the premise deserves.

Spawns browser windows that dance around the screen and refuse to sit still, harmless but genuinely infuriating.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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 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.

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.

Millions of uploaded Minecraft skins plus an editor, which is the closest thing that game has ever had to a fashion scene.

Drag countries across the Mercator projection and watch Greenland shrink to its actual size. Settles the argument in about ten seconds.

Flick the switch on. A small hand reaches out and turns it off again. That is the entire website and it is somehow enough.