A minute

Rebuilds a photograph out of coloured triangles, with sliders controlling exactly how abstract you want to get.

The canonical crowd-ranked list of 250 films, weighted to resist review bombing. A reliable way to spot the gap in your viewing.

Every meme template with the text boxes already in the right places, and no watermark once you find the setting.

The real museum of 25,000 banana-related objects has a website, and it looks exactly as you are already imagining.

A fake enterprise interface that rewards clicking dialogue boxes with more dialogue boxes, by an art-games designer.

Kaomoji, dongers and text faces sorted by category, with a copy button attached to every single one of them.

Net art from 1995 that looks precisely like your computer failing. View the source: the mess on screen is hiding the actual work.

Thousands of Japanese emoticons sorted by emotion, running from mild confusion all the way to full table flipping.

One golf hole a day, built to look trivial and then take nine attempts, with a score everybody can compare.

Looks like a plain platformer until the floor vanishes, the ceiling drops and the exit walks away. Trolling you is the actual mechanic.

Millions of chess tactics pulled from real games and served at exactly your rating, entirely free and with no account required.

Travel outwards at light speed while hearing which radio hits have reached each distance, oldest at the far edge.

Seasonal chart of everything currently airing, with countdowns to the next episode and which service is carrying it.

A fake executive dashboard of charts and metrics that keeps updating itself while you stare thoughtfully past it.

Official home of the autostereograms from every 1990s shopping centre, with a fresh one each week to go cross-eyed at.

Generate a fake newspaper clipping, a talking animation or a ransom note. The 2005 internet, rebuilt so it still works.

Every open source project plotted as a landmass, with related repositories clustering into continents you can pan across.

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

Vocabulary drills built around clips of native speakers saying the phrase in an actual street.

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.

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

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

A search engine that crawls the web with its own bot rather than renting results from the giants, and does not track who is searching.

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

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

Click a dial-up modem, a Nokia ringtone or a VHS rewinder and remember precisely where you were standing at the time.

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

A non-profit, open-source search engine with its own index, curated by volunteers. Results feel nothing like the big engines, which is the point.

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

The official Atlantic and Pacific hurricane advisories, cones of uncertainty and discussion notes written in plain prose by duty forecasters.

Wordle for equations: eight tiles holding one arithmetic statement that has to balance as well as being correct.

UK spoof news updated several times a day, best read as running commentary on whatever is currently going wrong.

A morning briefing of good stories, written for people who want a news habit that does not ruin breakfast.

Fast, minimal tracker that pings you the moment a followed episode airs. Open source and deliberately kept lightweight.

One well-sourced strange story per weekday, told at exactly the length of a cup of coffee.

A million checkboxes shared by everyone at once. Ticking them was pointless right up until people started writing messages in binary.

One minute of footage from a park somewhere in the world, matched to the exact minute you happen to be watching.

Scan a barcode and get ingredients, additives and a nutrition score from a database anyone can edit. Wikipedia for groceries.

A hand-drawn library of mix-and-match people, free for anything, and quietly the source of half the internet's illustrations.

Searches around a billion openly licensed images and audio files, with the licence terms attached to every single result.

A sealed glass sphere of water, sand and brine shrimp that you seed and then leave running, ecosystem permitting.

Colourises black-and-white photographs, then lets you steer the result by describing the colours you wanted in words.

Fold a paper plane, throw it, and catch one somebody launched in another country. Nothing else happens, which is the point.

Race a crowd of runners up a rooftop obstacle course where the only real skill is jumping at the right half-second.

A big set of free PDF tools in the browser: merge, split, compress, convert and sign documents without creating an account first.

Penalty shootouts through a whole tournament, against a keeper who reads your run-up better than you would like.

Draw a circle with one unbroken stroke and get scored on how round it actually was. Nobody beats 97% on a trackpad.