(It also provides some of us with a small reminder of just why Will Sasso was so perfectly cast as Curly in that recent Three Stooges movie.)

In my adolescence, I was fortunate to meet the right person at the right time. I’m speaking of my mentor, Rich Roesberg.

There’s no one who has made a greater influence on my cultural life.

Growing up in the Pine Barrens and surrounding environs of southern New Jersey made artistic and intellectual engagement hard to come by. People who, last decade, abhorred the encroachment of big-box chain bookstores, to the supposed detriment of small independent bookshops, had no idea what it was like growing up in a place with no bookstore nearby. If there had been a Borders bookstore anywhere near me when I was growing up, it would have been a godsend.

As it was, though, I had my own godsend. One day my mother went into a Hallmark greeting-card store in a strip mall to buy some cards. The store also carried books — in fact, it was called Blatt’s Books — and I found in the back some secondhand comic-books. What I discovered when I took them to the front counter was the assistant manager, an elder in his late 20’s named Rich Roesberg, and a conversation about comic books that over the 35+ years since then has broadened into art, music, politics, and much, much more. “Uncle Rich,” as my gang and I started calling him, became my oasis.

Here’s an abbreviated list of what I found through him during my impressionable adolescent years:

1. A deep admiration for Brian Wilson, Van Dyke Parks and the Beach Boys
2. An appreciation for dada and surrealism
3. R. Crumb
4. John Cage
5. Cut-up (Brion Gysin’s technique)
6. Soupy Sales
7. The Bonzo Dog Doodah Band
8. Jean Shepherd
9. Bob & Ray
10. Steve Ditko (it was Roesberg who made me see how wonderful his work is)
11. Bill Irwin
12. Ernie Kovacs
13. Steve Allen
14. Uncle Floyd
15. Charles Bukowski
16. John Fante
17. Alfred Jarry
18. William S. Burroughs

This runner brings new meaning to having “the trots.”

Here are some fine examples of logo design gone very wrong. Given that we’re biologically programmed to see sex everywhere, and that that’s reinforced by advertising, you’d think someone would have noticed that most of these don’t stand up to, um, penetrating examination.

Sure, somebody else gets accidentally credited $92 quadrillion by PayPal. Why not me? I could certainly use that money, heading off to Comic Con as I am.

In which a policewoman in Long Branch, NJ responds to a call from residents complaining about “an old scruffy man acting suspiciously” — and winds up booking Bob Dylan on a stroll before his concert.

Favorite part: Even after he gave his name, she didn’t know who he was. Those kids today.

Here’s a joke I’ve shared with friends for years: When I die, I’ll know I’ve made it to Heaven if someone there says, “You’re just in time. We’re screening the new Buster Keaton film.”

Today, I almost got that wish. (Except without the dying part.) Someone has unearthed a different version of Keaton’s 1922 short, “The Blacksmith,” that’s a European version — one that is substantially different, with different scenes, than the ones we’ve seen.

Read the story.

Then imagine my jubilation. I can’t wait to see this restored.

Check them out here.

This week is Comic-Con. But before I get fully immersed in comic books, I thought I’d share this profile of comic writer Jack Handey (he of “Deep Thoughts”). Handey has a comic novel coming out, of which the title alone compels me (“The Stench of Honolulu”). I think I’m going to read that, and suspect at least a few of my friends might want to too. (RCR, are you listening?)