Omnibus

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

In which British documentarians and Austin slackers alike use the movies to unveil the mysteries of aging and mortality, and John leaves a series of women waiting for him at train stations in Spain. Certificate #48149

In which the 1980s fad for charity pop singles inspires an ambitious geographic stunt, and Ken plans a foolproof way to assassinate Jamie Farr. Certificate #26004

In which the bizarre 1989 American invasion of Panama kicks off our modern era of on-the-nose Pentagon naming conventions, and John is reminded of a dominatrix, as usual. Certificate #19345.

In which the First World War begins in an unexpected fashion, with two ocean liners blowing holes in each other off the coast of Brazil, and Ken gets gaslit into buying a tuxedo. Certificate #32056.