Omnibus

In which Alaska chooses to make a cheerfully lawless gold rush villain into a beloved folk hero, and Ken wonders if he's married to a dice-rolling confidence artist. Certificate #35570.

In which history's most widely read theologian is revealed to be an eccentric Los Angeles cartoonist and conspiracy theorist who looks like Slim Pickens, and John notices that religious pamphlets mostly appear in places where bad things happen. Certificate #31387.

In which a Listerine label-printing company publishes what goes on to become the most popular cookbook in American history, and Ken imagines Wall Street Journal portraits of seafood. Certificate #38738.

In which one of the great Pop Art geniuses of his century accidentally becomes a one-hit wonder with an iconic bit of typography, and John regrets never entering into an arranged marriage. Certificate #37350.

In which we are reminded that the modern global communication network still relies on unwiedly physical cables running along the sea-floor, tempting Russian spies and itchy whales, and Ken enjoys the word "gutta-percha." Certificate #34332.

In which the phenomenon of "illusory superiority" causes a gradual creep of ratings and reputations in every field, from maple syrup to dunks to dress sizes, and John is universally praised by his rideshare drivers. Certificate #45417.

In which a consortium of gemologists tries to persuade vacationers of the hottest new thing in jewelry, which Ken considers to be the Sammy Hagar of birthstones. Certificate #48596.

In which filthy Restoration comedy, Horatio Alger, and a sensational murder trial conspire to create a very odd pick-up line, and John requires an extra syllable in "Tijuana." Certificate #2793.

In which John Wayne buys a decommissioned minesweeper as his luxury yacht and it outlasts its more famous French sister ship, which is probably now full of slugs. Certificate #28232.

In which a failed periscope inventor predicts the greatest disaster of his time with apparently paranormal accuracy, and special guest Aimee Mann is warned away from the supernatural in no uncertain terms. Certificate #27264.

In which the west is won by long fleets of covered wagons "sailing" on to the Oregon Territory, and Ken thinks it was mistake to capitalize the Northwest Passage. Certificate #18089.

In which the European powers scramble to claim an infant pile of basalt in the Mediterranean, and John wonders how steampunk the Libyan submarine fleet might be. Certificate #50204.

In which John describes environmentally friendly modern alternatives to burial, and refuses to apologize for leaving an urn full of ashes under his piano for a decade. Certificate #37628.

In which amateur algebra experts figure out where the planets in the solar system should be, and are (briefly) proven right, and Ken gets his hair cut by a ghost. Certificate #36737.

In which the modern insurance industry is born when medieval Italian merchants form syndicates to manage risk, and Ken manages risk by making people order pancakes. Certificate #46598.

In which dumb campus fads return to the American spotlight in 1973 thanks to a mild winter and legions of nude undergrads, and John gradually remembers his own complicated streaking history. Certificate #41916.

In which the Great White North is serviced and explored by the greatest bush plane of all time, and Ken decides that aircraft shouldn't be named after bugs. Certificate #35435.

In which pre-Columbian civilizations spend thousands of years banging each other up with heavy rubber balls, and John tries to replace professional sports with stick-fighting. Certificate #28586.

In which a droll Long Island reporter and his newsroom buddies accidentally create one of the all-time great dirty books, and Ken is skeptical of the nudist lifestyle. Certificate #50150.

In which a hippie-hating cartoonist accidentally creates a (slightly) gender-equalizing campus tradition, and John spends hours poring over newspaper bridge columns. Certificate #44390.

In which a very old Native American trading pidgin becomes a regional language and 20th-century slang, and Ken goes to a movie theater that basically confessed to genocide. Certificate #5725.

In which the world's tallest tribe, if they even exist, are enslaved by Ferdinand Magellan and downsized by subsequent visitors, and John reminds us of the importance of good posture. Certificate #33392.

In which one rough night for a traveling salesman in Akron, Ohio births a new spiritual approach to addiction recovery, and Ken suggests some interesting anagrams for post-human Presbyterian listeners. Certificate #19544.

In which a generation of traumatized Japanese young people increasingly decide never to come out of their bedrooms, whereas John insists on dying alone. Certificate #50644.

In which we learn that ruminants are eating a lot more metal nowadays than they used to, and that Ken would like to have a gravel spoon at dinner. Certificate #28929