In which a secret society of plucky Civil War veterans hatches a plan to return Ireland to the Irish by—wait for it—invading Canada, and John doesn't think the people who sold him wine coolers actually exist. Certificate #12129.
In which even the most hated typeface in the history of desktop publishing has its defenders, and Ken isn't sure why he owns cargo shorts. Certificate #54861.
In which a flirty but forgotten Tin Pan Alley song leads to the first great moral panic in pop music history, and John sneakily borrows someone else's shanty town. Certificate #12960.
In which a state politician's lack of badminton equipment leads to the invention of the hottest sport of the 21st century, and Ken is slightly present. Certificate #42131.
In which researchers squabble for centuries about the secret ingredient that made one Cremonese craftsman the greatest musical instrument-maker of all time, and John seasons guitars under a bus. Certificate #36611.
In which a king agrees to hand over his seventh-best island in the hopes of creating a haven for his native Hawaiian language and culture, and Ken does not want to greet Zach. Certificate #43273.
In which the last universal physicist demonstrates to his students that ballpark estimates in math can be as powerful as precision, and John isn't sure if Romanians can count tomatoes. Certificate #46480.
In which an ill-advised utopian scheme to bypass Niagara Falls becomes America's first toxic waste catastrophe, and Ken knows the main thing that water does. Certificate #42025.
In which the great gourmet food of 19th-century "frolics" suddenly disappears from American menus, and John thinks humankind often looks to weasels. Certificate #32793.
In which the tragic death of a gorilla at the Cincinnati Zoo launches a tidal wave of viral content on social media, and Ken explains bad table manners as an accident of birth. Certificate #23616.
In which the most notorious convict in America attempts no fewer than four separate escapes from the Alcatraz of the Cumberland Mountains, and John would never disparage the banjo. Certificate #1746.
In which a mysterious outbreak of "glass pox," possibly a result of nuclear testing, hits the Pacific Northwest, and Ken doesn't think Sherlock Holmes knows any teenagers. Certificate #40197.
In which the Yoruba people of Nigeria create a new kind of "speech surrogacy" for news and storytelling using a versatile percussion section, and John only needs two pedals to get to Sounds-Like-Garbage-Land. Certificate #51913.
In which a polar expedition builds a massive RV to road-trip around Antarctica but brings the wrong tires, and Ken wonders if admirals like sexy calendars. Certificate #23408.
In which the earliest discoverers of electricity disagree on whether it helps flowers, turnips, and myrtle shrubs to grow, and John punishes himself with sprouts. Certificate #27338.
In which a clue-filled dead body appears on a beach in Adelaide, Australia, sparking a tantalizing 75-year mystery, and Ken is not a team of seventh graders. Certificate #35821.
In which the collapse of the video rental industry sends one valuable and eccentric archive to an obscure and disaster-plagued town in western Sicily, and E. coli is no match for John. Certificate #43318.
In which a mysterious World War II inscription marries image and text to create the modern meme, and Ken does not think gangrenous limbs are a meme. Certificate #25622.
In which the bountiful gifts of American advice columnists include a now-ubiquitious happy afterlife for pets, and John might lose a swordfight because he's too heavy for a chandelier. Certificate #29810.
In which a self-crowned prince founds his own nation on a tiny piece of concrete in the North Sea, complete with commando raids, and Ken is only in favor of 3-D awards. Certificate #6611.
In which a village pastime for Sussex dairymaids gets urbanized into an exciting neighborhood pick-up sport in American inner cities, and John wants to pick the bittle up. Certificate #13472.
In which attempts to replace petrochemical plastic with corn and sawdust face fatal challenges of scale and efficiency, and Ken has never made a Prius. Certificate #32944.
In which the influence of spinet pianos and telegraph keys produces a satisfying new device interface for the electric age, and John thinks aliens just want a cuddle. Certificate #42007.
In which the development of guardrail and concrete divider technology makes highway driving massively safer over the decades, and Ken lies under oath in a deposition. Certificate #40991.
In which twenty-four bishops refuse to open the secret prophecies that will save Britain from war and banditry, and John wants to be called "Dicebox." Certificate #49596.
In which car registration numbers become modes for personalized creative expression and eventually a multimillion-dollar commodity, and Ken does not say "auto." Certificate #37808.
In which centuries of inaccurate illustrations of our planet are abruptly upended by satellites and awestruck astronauts, and John never drew spaceships, just Japanese fighter planes. Certificate #35817.
In which budget-conscious Swedes rearrange American ideas about nutritious eating, and Ken is pretty sure M&Ms are not getting smaller. Certificate #54063.
In which we celebrate 167 years of Americans being able to claim any island they like as long as it has enough bird poop on it, and John thinks you can dip a pole in liberty. Certificate #39867.
In which a remote part of Idaho solves its beaver dam problem with some surplus parachutes and an even more remote part of Idaho, and Ken applies the transitive property to mules and culverts. Certificate #31297.
