I first encountered Robert Crumb at my local Blockbuster, in the mid-Nineties, when Crumb became available for rental. I wasn’t more than ten at the time, so I didn’t understand that the movie was a documentary and Crumb a real person. I knew only that he was terrifically unpopular. Despite the fact that Crumb’s VHS slipcase proclaimed it one of the most amazing films ever, it was always in ample supply at Blockbuster. About a dozen copies of the cassette sat next to one another—a dozen Crumbs. Hunched and mustached, his hands clasped, his gaze magnified by his glasses,…