To see is to bear responsibility. To witness — to do. Two teenage boys, little difference between them and bonded by that, as well as by a vernacular of puns for sex and shitting and by their shinguard-plated foreheads containing epochs of eked-out evolution persisting at the fringes, both of their heads much too large, their pituitary glands engorged to the size of grapefruits, most likely the result of too much horniness — these boys saw. Called to adventure by the theft of their TV, Beavis and Butt-Head set off across America, their endless summer coming prematurely (hehe) as they wander through tourist holes and faceless hotel rooms and wonders of sprawling ecosystems alike, pressing buttons and befriending the elderly and evading the feds and harassing traumatized veterans. The entire unbidden landscape of this country can do nothing to defeat them. For they are seeing America, are doing the USA: Here, our virile emerging men, the underserved of a broken social welfare state, shoulder life’s burdens by not just surviving this vast, indifferent land, but by conquering it. Their only tools are unaccountability and shamelessness, no longer mitigated by a screen. We laugh at poop, the world swelters in their wake.