Google Gravity Pool Mr Doob [work]

šŸ” Google Gravity (by Mr. Doob)

What it is:
A playful JavaScript experiment where the Google homepage collapses under simulated gravity. Elements (search box, buttons, logos) fall, break apart, bounce, and can be dragged or thrown around the screen.

Experience:

Verdict:
āœ… Fun factor: High — it’s a delightful ā€œbreak the interfaceā€ toy.
āœ… Technical wow: For 2009–2010, this was mind-blowing in a browser. Still impressive.
āš ļø Practical use: None. It’s pure entertainment.

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ (4.5/5) — loses half a star because it’s short-lived novelty.


Part 7: Variations and Spin-Offs

The success of Google Gravity Pool Mr Doob led to dozens of spin-offs. You might also enjoy:

Method 2: The "I'm Feeling Lucky" Trick (The Classic Way)

This method works intermittently depending on your region and whether you have "Instant Results" turned on.

  1. Go to google.com.
  2. Make sure Google Instant Predictions are turned off:
    • Go to Settings (bottom right corner) -> Search settings.
    • Find "Autocomplete with trending searches" or "Google Instant predictions" and turn it OFF.
    • Save preferences.
  3. Type "Google Gravity" into the search box.
  4. Do NOT press Enter. Instead, look at the buttons below the search bar.
  5. Click the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button.
  6. Google will redirect you to the Mr. Doob Google Gravity page.

Step-by-Step Guide: How to Access It

There are two main ways to experience this. The most reliable method is going directly to the developer's website.

Overall on Mr. Doob’s experiments

Mr. Doob (Ricardo Cabello) is a legend in creative coding. His work popularized Three.js and showed what the browser could do beyond boring documents. Google Gravity is iconic internet history; Pool is a sleek physics demo.

Final take:


Google Gravity Pool Mr. Doob

Leo was supposed to be researching the life cycle of a star for his fifth-grade science project. Instead, like any bored eleven-year-old, he had typed "Google Gravity" into the search bar.

The first result, as always, was the Mr. Doob experiment. He clicked.

The familiar Google homepage crumbled before his eyes. The search bar warped like a rubber band, the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button slid off the screen, and all the little text links rained down like gray snowflakes. Leo giggled, using his mouse to swat the falling "Gmail" link across the void.

That’s when he noticed it.

In the bottom-left corner of the screen, where the black abyss of the Mr. Doob experiment usually ended, there was a shimmer. A soft, blue, rippling shimmer. He squinted. It looked like… water.

He grabbed the fallen "Images" link and dragged it over. When he dropped it onto the shimmer, it didn't bounce. It didn't fall through. It splashed.

A perfect circle of digital ripples spread outwards. The "Images" link bobbed gently on the surface.

ā€œWhoa,ā€ Leo whispered.

His curiosity burned brighter than any star he was supposed to be studying. He started throwing everything into the pool. The "Videos" link made a satisfying ker-plunk. He scooped up a handful of "Settings" and "History" and tossed them in like breadcrumbs. Soon, a strange archipelago of Google links floated on the blue surface. google gravity pool mr doob

Then he had his brilliant, terrible idea. He dragged the main Google Search bar—the big, heavy one—to the edge of the pool and tipped it over.

The entire screen shuddered.

The pool didn't just ripple. It opened. The blue shimmer expanded, swallowing the black void, and Leo felt a strange tug behind his eyes. The monitor wasn't a window anymore; it was a portal. He could smell ozone and something sweet, like melted plastic and cotton candy.

He reached out a finger and touched the screen.

His finger went through.

It was cold. Wet. And then a force—gentle but insistent—grasped his fingertip. It was the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button. It had grown a tiny, pixelated hand and was pulling him in.

Leo didn’t scream. He grinned.

He pushed his whole hand through, then his arm. The screen stretched like taffy around his shoulders. And with a final, silent plink, he fell headfirst into the Google Gravity Pool.

Inside, the rules were different. The search bar was a half-submerged monolith. The "About" link swam past him like a startled silver fish. He floated in a warm, zero-gravity liquid that tasted like static electricity. šŸ” Google Gravity (by Mr

And there, sitting cross-legged on a sunken "G" logo, was a figure. He was made of light and shadow, with wireframe glasses and a calm, knowing smile.

ā€œMr. Doob?ā€ Leo asked.

The figure nodded. He pointed to a cluster of bubbles rising from the deep. Inside each bubble was a search query: how to tie a tie, closest pizza, meaning of life.

Mr. Doob then pointed to Leo. Then to a blank bubble forming in front of him.

ā€œMy project,ā€ Leo realized. ā€œThe star.ā€

Mr. Doob smiled wider. He snapped his fingers, and the pool went dark. But the darkness wasn't empty. It was filled with swirling gas, points of burning light, and the slow, majestic collapse of a dying sun. The entire lifecycle of a star played out in the water around him, more real than any textbook.

Leo reached out and caught the final moment—the supernova—in his cupped hands.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in his bedroom. The monitor was normal. The Mr. Doob page was just a boring, static Google logo again. But on his desk, dripping wet and glowing faintly, was a tiny, perfect sphere of light.

His science project.

And in the corner of the screen, for just a second, he saw a small, pixelated hand wave goodbye before the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button went back to being perfectly still.