It's an excellent starting point.  Rosa clearly adores his subject matter, and he captures the spirit of the Barks stories while making the storytelling a little more contemporary.  It also provides a nice overview of the characters and their adventures; from there you can move on to anything by Barks.

My husband and I are such culturally backward nerds that the "Hey Ya" video was our first exposure to that song.  A couple of months later, the DJ played it at our wedding and we went, "Wow, that Peanuts video must be really popular!"

Peppermint Patty has the saddest sequence of strips in Peanuts, which is saying a lot, where she sees the little red-haired girl and realizes she'll never get Chuck to forget about her because she's not pretty enough.

One afternoon in third grade, we were all herded into the hallway, with no explanation, to watch "Rocky."  For years I thought this was something I had dreamed, until, at my high-school graduation, one of the other kids suddenly turned to me and said, "In third grade, did they make us watch 'Rocky'?"  It was like a…

Yeah, I'm less concerned about the kids who whine about watching black-and-white movies than the grown-ass adults who do exactly the same thing.  And I've known a lot of them.

I kinda like 'em too.  Now I have to buy a custom van, because I have found the perfect music to get laid to in it.

As my husband says about ICP: "We already have a crappy version of Kiss. It's called Kiss."

"Be a Man" has a page where Brown picks up his girlfriend and spins her around over his head while going "Rawr," which, for a while, was my husband's favorite comic-book thing to try to emulate.

Deitch is one of those artists who gets overlooked because his work is consistently great but doesn't change or develop much, so you can't say much about each new title but, "Yup, this one's awesome too."  (Rick Geary's historical murder comics are kind of in the same category.)  Basically, anything by him is worth a…

Peepshow is extra creepy if you read it from the very beginning, where Matt is cheerful and mildly quirky (as opposed to peeing-in-the-sink weird) and even has a real live girlfriend.  Then you watch him slowly descend into that grim madness that seems to grip every Canadian cartoonist sooner or later.  Get out while…

One! Hundred! Demons! is worth a hundred Chester Brown comics and 2.5 Pekars.

Jeffrey Brown redeemed himself with "Be a Man," a minicomic where he rewrites a bunch of scenes from "Clumsy" to make himself manly.  It's out of print, but I think it's in his latest collection.

I felt kind of depressed for Seth when I found out that the quest for the old magazine cartoonist in It's a Good Life was fictional, because it meant that he really doesn't do anything all day but draw comics and try to impress girls with his old-timey hats.

Extras made me realize that "bad agent" is a hilarious character type, right up there with "bad doctor" and "bad priest."  The scene where Andy walks in on Darren masturbating to a pen made me laugh harder than anything in the series that didn't involve Patrick Stewart.

Sally Cruikshank, the animator, did a bunch of opening-credits intros for 1980s movies, in addition to being generally awesome.  Speaking of which, why don't movies have wacky animated opening sequences anymore?  Do directors think they're better than Savage Steve Holland or something?

Dark Knight Returns was one of the comics that got me into comics, back in the day, but rereading it now, half of the dialogue sounds like it comes from a gay porn manga.  Try it and tell me I'm wrong.

Reaper Man was my first, and in retrospect it was a terrible introduction.  I liked the Death-on-a-farm material and the zombie activism gags, but the B plot with the wizards fighting the snow-globe/shopping-mall dimensional menace is probably the weakest plotline in the Discworld series, not to mention the most…

That's funny, because I sympathize with Diane in that episode.  Sam forbids her to sit for the painting for no good reason and doesn't notice or care that it's important to her.  She doesn't do it to hurt him, but because, well, she wants to, and she deludes herself into thinking she can make him understand.  She does…

Early in the Rebecca run, it feels like the writers had no idea where they wanted to go with the character: is she an icy businesswoman?  A ruthless gold-digger?  An incompetent ditz?  And it does feel sexist sometimes, like they're throwing out every negative female stereotype they can think of to see if something…

Sorkin isn't bad at writing women per se; it's just that whenever a female character becomes romantically involved with one of his self-inserts, her life has to instantly revolve around needing him and being intimidated by his genius.