William McGonagall's poems are something else. The jarring meter, the banal imagery, the awkward rhymes: they made him a laughing stock in 19th Century Scotland and are still derided to this day. How does someone get that bad at poetry? Or have we been misunderstanding McGonagall all along?

The Inventor who Almost Ended the World (Classic)
36:37

From Drilled: The Carbon Gold Rush
28:05

Angels, Gold and Lust: John Dee and the Philosopher's Stone (Part 2)
46:52