An elementary cellular automaton is the simplest computer that still does something: a 1-D row of black/white cells where every cell's next state depends only on itself and its two neighbours. The entire universe of behaviour is indexed by a single integer 0–255 — the 'rule' — whose eight bits spell out the output for each of the eight possible three-cell neighbourhoods. Despite that triviality, the rules span Wolfram's four classes from dull to fractal to chaotic, and Rule 110 was proven Turing-complete: it can, in principle, compute anything any computer can. Each new generation is drawn below the last, so the canvas is a spacetime diagram of the row's whole history.
Hit the 30 / 90 / 110 / 184 preset buttons to jump to the famous rules. Rule 90 draws a perfect Sierpinski triangle from the single seed — pure XOR of its neighbours. Rule 30 dissolves into chaos so structureless that Mathematica used its centre column as a random-number generator. Rule 110 is the prize: a froth of triangles with little 'gliders' drifting and colliding through them — the collisions are what make it a universal computer. Reset re-seeds and clears the history; pause and use Step › to advance one generation at a time.