The porthole

Porthole, on the desk, is a browser with tabs. Type an address, or a word, and it looks through the workshop for it: the sites, the games, the music tools, the pieces of Fresh slop and every page in between. The workshop’s own sites show through the glass as they are. Most of the outside world won’t be looked at through somebody else’s window, and won’t say when it refuses, so Porthole says that plainly and offers a real tab. Its bookmarks, and what it looked at lately, are kept in the biscuit tin.

The codex proposes that it came up out of the sardine tin on the bench, off one of the boats in its sea, and was fitted to the desk because the desk had nothing to look out of. This is proposed by the codex and is not canon until approved. Like the rest of the desk it is machine-made, glass, bolts and all.