Omnibus

In which a new gypsum miracle product takes more than a century to replace lath-and-plaster walls in home construction, and John thinks lizards have ears. Certificate #35059.

In which a now-forgotten Quaker teenager becomes the most fiery and most famous woman orator of her time, and Ken has no idea if Norman Schwarzkopf is alive or dead. Certificate #44568.

In which an aristocrat's private bet about gullible audiences leads to a 1749 theater riot, and John thinks Dick Cheney should have a podcast. Certificate #16793.

In which the Moog synthesizer and the "plant consciousness" movement of the 1970s produce a rare collector's item for lovers of weird music, and Ken refuses to buy his children reptiles. Certificate #27581.

In which the president wears beige to an August 2014 press conference, suddenly creating three or four new kinds of political discourse, each worse than the last. Certificate #35844.

In which we trace two centuries of people being briefly interested in three-dimensional images, and John gets a bad case of "Intellivision thumb." Certificate #27012.

In which a Siberian mystic gets so cozy with Russian royals that he ensures the success of the Bolshevik Revolution, and Ken wonders if he blinks the normal amount of times. Certificate #38899.

In which the American love affair with demolition-based entertainment is born near Waco, Texas in an explosion of iron and steam, and John believes some flight attendants are aliens. Certificate #34659.

In which we follow the arc of nerd culture to the Council of Elrond where a certain kind of fan service is born, and Ken explains why people fight about Frodo and Jesus. Certificate #40170.

In which a zombie pope is forced to stand trial in 9th-century Rome, and Ken discovers a generation of people with strong opinions about the word "zoology." Certificate #28349.

In which an online covered wagon auction unearths an almost-forgotten genre of itinerant performer, and John refuses to identify the Tijuana of Europe. Certificate #46962.

In which an Australian cricket team creates an international controversy with an unorthodox but legal strategy, and Ken accidentally does a Boston accent. Certificate #30080.

In which a modern-day treasure hunter becomes convinced that a priceless trove of British fighter jets is buried at the end of an airport runway, and John becomes a realtor for Myanmar. Certificate #34112.

In which the Internet is born in 1945 when a radar technician in a bamboo hut reads a Life magazine article about a futuristic desk, and Ken wonders if anyone smoked weed at Los Alamos. Certificate #18461.

In which an inept attempt at a Portuguese-English phrasebook becomes an enduring comedy classic, and John celebrates the invention of the stirrup. Certificate #29469.

In which the most famous socialist rabble-rouser of her time returns from her 1919 execution (maybe) as a headless mummy, and Ken wonders if ancient Irish peasants had combination skin. Certificate #27337.

In which a set of rare ocean and weather conditions in Alabama can lead to periodic seafood explosions, and Ken and John agree that Muscle Shoals must be in the wrong place. Certificate #38099.

In which the wealthiest and most socially awkward British thinker of his time revolutionizes science, mostly in secret, and John wants to harvest clones at Packers games. Certificate #47447.

In which we consider an alternate timeline where the Beatles' third movie was a psychedelic Tolkien adaptation instead of a bummer documentary, and Ken sticks up for sanitation. Certificate #51290.

In which a mutt from the mean streets of Connecticut becomes a decorated hero in the trenches of World War I, and John is only good at half of rugby. Certificate #26161.

In which the gross gunk from the back end of a rodent is discovered to be an invaluable perfume ingredient and even flavor enhancer, and Ken's Sunday school teacher does not want a high-five. Certificate #36682.

In which Midwestern pilots are unable to resist the gaping maw of the St. Louis skyline, and John watches a Wim Wenders movie fourteen times without ever seeing the beginning. Certificate #30320.

In which an acid trip and a NASA space photo inspire a new guide of counterculture "tools" for living, and Ken helps John get his Nixon back. Certificate #51410.

In which we learn how a "system" of Scandinavian minimalism put on a happy face and became the most popular toy in the world, and John tries the art of the deal with Ken's kids. Certificate #50469.

In which a series of corporate mergers and one amusement park fire conspire to rob the world of a priceless musical heritage, and Ken regrets renting a fancy car. Certificate #43485.

In which four clipper ships race to London in the most exciting contest of the 19th century, and John thinks race cars should deliver cocaine. Certificate #38646.

In which southwest Washington State becomes the epicenter for lazy Sasquatch fakes, and Ken explains how the Jersey Devil probably reproduces. Certificate #17742.

In which a presidential grandchild with a reasonable CIA departmental budget is all it takes to overthrow Iran, and John reveals the only downside of firing a howitzer. Certificate #39131.

In which Teddy Roosevelt and his son celebrate the end of his manly presidency by almost dying in South America, and Ken is tricked into discussing Mato Grosso. Certificate #27531.

In which a series of traumatic train accidents and a broke astronomer conspire to re-invent time as a flat circle, and John accidentally attends a clock unveiling. Certificate #13818.

In which a freak Pacific storm in 1832 makes one young castaway an unusual ambassador for the Empire of Japan, and Ken is unable to justify the Gospel of John. Certificate #37850.

In which a fiery apocalypse outside Rome, New York marks the cultural endpoint of the 1990s, and John spends his whole childhood reading about armaments in Janes publications. Certificate #27287.

In which a Norwegian amateur anthropologist sails a raft from Peru to Polynesia to push a pet theory, and Ken covets ink and gold. Certificate #18688.

In which we follow the long, strange journey that finally got World War I and World War II their names, and John goes for drinks with his high school principal. Certificate #24737.

In which itinerant snowbirds turn an abandoned desert naval base into a trash-mountain utopia, and Ken hopes a nuke lands on his head. Certificate #33204.

In which modernity discovers a late Renaissance composer with a history of ahead-of-his-time harmonies and lurid murder, and John scats like Cab Calloway after midnight. Certificate #39859.

In which a Brooklyn-born fast food manager slaps some paramilitary berets on local kids and starts a new community policing movement, and Ken wonders how to allocate the stripes on the American flag. Certificate #25639.

In which we trace at least four secret identities of the most reclusive novelist in literary history, and John gets a terrible fake ID from the fake ID store. Certificate #39453.

In which we learn why Los Angeles and other post-war American cities have tens of thousands of the same apartment complex, and Ken wonders where Philip Johnson's water heater is. Certificate #25380.

In which a throwback British baronet (sort of) completes seven marathons on seven continents in seven consecutive days, and John runs like a rhinoceros. Certificate #20800.

In which Detroit's first "cool" car executive almost goes to jail in an attempt to save his weird car and foundering company, and Ken says it's okay for kids to climb into refrigerators now. Certificate #36728.

In which a Prussian schoolteacher's wife founds a failed anti-Semitic utopia in Paraguay and creates fascism's favorite philosopher, and John wants to keep Nazis off the Moon at all costs. Certificate #42582.

In which we look at the long history of romanticizing rural life, from the Enlightenment all the way up to today's Instagram lesbians, and Ken accuses Thoreau of "glamping." Certificate #45989.

In which we learn what causes the "frequency illusion" of recently learned facts immediately reappearing into view, and John has too many books on his bed for romance. Certificate #36846.

In which far-left European terrorism of the 1970s produces West Germany's own Marxist-Leninist "Bonnie and Clyde," and Ken feels bad for that kissing nurse in Times Square. Certificate #26524.

In which we learn that the massive global banana export market is a precarious monoculture doomed to disaster because of a tiny fungus, and John thinks Sean Young might be a time traveler. Certificate #26039.

In which the intricate bead culture of the Eastern Woodlands tribes confuses new British and Dutch arrivals, and Ken refuses to let Thomas Jefferson make him be a farmer. Certificate #31448.

In which we learn what governments do when election results come back exactly tied, and John swings a Seattle mayoral election by asking for directions. Certificate #30371.

In which the era of intelligence testing produces an Oxford-based society for smarty-pants who, it turns out, mostly want to solve puzzles, and Ken is shamed for identifying an antelope. Certificate #43519.

In which the U.S. military battles black marketing and currency destabilization by paying Korea- and Vietnam-era servicemembers in play money, and John learns about a 1990s fad for the first time. Certificate #46965.