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.
In which an unfinished Holocaust "dramedy" gains a reputation as the worst movie ever made even though no one has ever seen it, and Ken thinks a lot about dog poop. Certificate #46512.
In which an MIT professor worried about a digital future accidentally creates the field of human-machine conversation, and John flirts with a 54-year-old computer program. Certificate #36441.
In which a shy Chicago student becomes one of the most famous rock fans in America by virtue of her anatomically correct artwork, and John offers Ken an unwanted present. Certificate #30889.
In which a doddering general saves America from an alarming alternate history in which the Confederacy takes over the nation instead of seceding, and Ken objurgates against several things (but especially slavery). Certificate #15899.
In which an unnamed Greek shipping magnate "jumbo-izes" an oil tanker so big that it can't even navigate the English Channel, and John ponders digging a canal between Seattle and Omaha. Certificate #36640.
In which thousands of Mesoamerican "toys" in museums around the world turn out to be terrifying vessels for the screams of wind and death, and Ken dreams of wearing "Bespin fatigues." Certificate #34995.
In which the Department of Energy decides upon a bizarre way to transport nuclear warheads, and Ken applauds the conservation of Cold War consonants. Certificate #25154.
In which a feisty Texan single mom comes up with the gimmick that puts a friendly face on the appalling direct sales industry, and John recommends kicking a bear. Certificate #29266.
In which the Platonic ideal of American "prep" fashion catches on with Japanese hipsters before it does back home, and Ken finds someone to blame for his short Uniqlo pants. Certificate #21125.
In which a 1946 election in George results in chaos, fraud, public drunkenness, and broken furniture, and John decides to become a potato-hating beekeeper in retirement. Certificate #27176.
In which the very first amendment to the Bill of Rights, outlining the future of U.S. government, gets forgotten on its path to ratification, and Ken insults Delaware. Certificate #21125.
In which a hilariously minimalistic grocery ghetto blooms in no-frills Carter-era America, and John chases a memory of uniformed women plying him with cheese cubes. Certificate #34402.
In which the art of music recording is revolutionized by a troubled British record producer who doesn't read or play music, and Ken can't really think of any guitar pedals. Certificate #37241.
In which our modern recycling fervor is shaped by a mob boss who can't find a port for three thousand tons of Long Island garbage, and John has a dining room full of tin. Certificate #26561.
In which the nightmarish complexity of the world's non-standardized rail systems is marveled at, and Ken hatches a zeppelin-related plan to resurrect Dame Agatha Christie. Certificate #48966.
In which a single TV series builds the modern image of American police as righteous and efficient, despite much evidence to the contrary, and John uses its theme song in the bedroom. Certificate #35498.
