Standing Over By The Record Machine: Boris The Sprinkler drop the Record of The Year (or at least one of them)

Only Rev. Norb and his fellow Borises could make a rockin’ EP out of a classic Parker Brothers board game!

I owe you an apology, Dear Reader. Maybe two. I was practically posting daily  two weeks ago, much as I promised in my very first Substack—right up until Part One of my James Baker interview one week ago. 

(BTW, I must thank you all for that being one of the most-read ‘Stacks in our two-and-a-half year history! 1.19k unique views and counting! That's ultracool, considering my subscription list was 1.01k strong last Monday, and only 472 of those members of the Napalm Nation have opened it thus far! Which means we've got a few new faces here in the ‘Stack! Welcome to the club—let’s see if you stick around!)

Of course, that streak came crashing down last week, which was down to two factors: 

1) The Dayjob turned into an actual full-time grind—briefly, at least. Rent doesn’t pay itself, after all, and the ‘Stack sure isn’t footing the bill… yet! Although that was only temporary, so….

2) I had to finish basic writing on My Second Book, which is due soon at Ruffian Books. I know, Anarchy In The Studio has not even been published yet. (But fret not, pre-sale goes live on Black Friday!) But yes, another title by Tim Stegall, which we’re not yet ready to announce, will be arriving not long after The Book is out early next year. Stay tuned – we will let you in on all the details ASAP.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t planning to write about politics for a bit. But with everything going on, it’s hard to resist diving back into the circus of current events. Case in point:  Two jackasses showed up at TSU and UTSA on November 6th, holding up signs featuring such gems as, “Types of Property: WOMEN, SLAVES, ANIMALS, CARS, LAND, ETC…. Yes, the day after the elections. Apparently, my theory was right. Cheetoh Mussolini’s election has given jackasses everywhere the idea that they can be just as much of a jackass as he is.

A TSU administrator brushed it off as free speech. Sure, the First Amendment technically protects these incels’ right to earn a well-deserved ass-kicking from every woman within a 50-foot radius. But as a very wise woman once told me, “Everyone is entitled to their dumb, stupid opinion, even when they’re wrong!”

Then came Cheetoh’s cabinet nominations, each more baffling than the last, driving up male pattern baldness rates—and not just in men! All I know is that this is possibly the first time in history that the words “Tulsi Gabbard” and “intelligence” have ever been used together in a sentence. And certainly, that one’s as sensible as putting a flat-earther in charge of NASA. Or appoint an anti-vaxxer the new health czar—oh, wait! He did that! But Matt Gaetz as attorney general?!  Is Cheetoh hoping a fellow accused criminal will go easy on him?! Mind you, almost as quickly as Gaetz was announced, he withdrew at a head-spinning rate. But in this climate, you almost expect Cheetoh to announce that the position was now going to Danny Masterson.

Point is, what did we expect? This is what Cheetoh does—delivering short sharp shocks hourly, to knock his opponents off-balance and keep them there. It’s basically the same strategy he uses in his business, injecting a constant “WTF?!” factor. We know this from his first administration. 

But we cannot control what he does. However, we can control how we react. If we blow-up everytime we hear that he is basically acting like he’s The Joker, and he’s now in charge of Arkham Asylum and setting free The Penguin, The RIddler and the rest of the rogue’s gallery, it’s gonna exhaust us the next few years. We’ll burn out before the real battles begin. Be vigilant, yes. But be organized. Don’t give him the satisfaction of losing it every time he pulls a stunt. Starving his insanity of attention might just drive him crazier than anything we could say or do.

And yet, some good news: If we ever needed proof that the universe has a sense of humor, The Onion just bought what Mother Jones dubs Alex Jones’ “conspiracy mega-site Infowars” in a secret auction! 

The plan?  Relaunch it as a parody of itself, which I am sure chaps the hide of Jones (“the face of monetized suspicion in America,” in another memorable Mother Jones phrase) and all those other TSU free-speechifiers who like getting their news from a water filter salesman. The bids were secret, but I’m praying The Onion only shelled out a buck.

This CNN Business story intimately recounts how The Onion prevailed over Mr. False Flag, with one particularly delicious detail: “The Onion’s bid was backed by the families of eight victims of the school shooting and one first responder. It also will have an exclusive advertising deal with the gun control group Everytown for Gun Safety.” 

But the sweetest capper on this caper? The Onion CEO Ben Collins’ statement on the acquisition: “We look forward to continuing its storied tradition of scaring the site’s users with lies until they fork over their cold, hard cash. Or Bitcoin. We will also accept Bitcoin.”

Ugh! If you’re worn out from all this jackassery, imagine the toll it takes on the guy writing about it! I should be getting combat pay just for wading through this mess! But since Tim “Napalm” Stegall Substack subscriptions barely even cover the cost of processed cheese slices, I doubt accounting will process that invoice. 

Best to pivot back to some rock ‘n’ roll, before the madness fries my last nerve….

BORIS THE SPRINKLER – Boris Gets A Clue (Rum/Bar Records) 6 song CD EP

Longtime readers know of my fondness and respect for the Rev. Norbert Elmo Xavier Ugly, our favorite Midwestern punk polymath. As detailed in his first ‘Stack appearance—a review of the last release from his Blue Light Special new wave band The Smart Shoppers—everything he does is always choice. Considering his last appearance in these parts was a glowing review of his best-known band Boris The Sprinkler’s odds-and-sods collection Bits O’ Boris (written in an attempted approximation of his inimitable writing style), you’d be correct in assuming I’m tickled fuchsia to have a new Boris EP to blast at the upstairs neighbor who keeps flushing socks down their toilet.

Boris has always felt more in line with ‘77-style bands like The Briefs or even punk/power-pop synergists The Exploding Hearts than more commercial pop-punkers such as blink-182. Boris simply had a lot more garage to ‘em, more Heartbreakers-oid raunch—even when they get sillier than an afternoon of Rocky and Bullwinkle reruns. This is especially apparent on Boris Gets A Clue, a concept EP about Parker Brothers’ enduring murder mystery board game Clue. Which I welcome like either a new Generation X LP or the return of Whataburger’s Chili Cheese Burger.

All of this is basically a highfalutin’ and time-wasting way of saying that genius tracks like “Miss Scarlet in the Study” (featuring a clever Chuck Berry cop and equally brilliant reference to Ringo Starr and “I Wanna Be Your Man”) and “Run, Mrs. Peacock” rock like a spastic seahorse. Their structures are so perfectly ‘50s and ‘60s, Murray The K would be yellin’ about ‘em being Golden Gassers within seconds—if, of course, he hadn’t taken leave of his earthly vessel back in 1982.

It all rocks like a Shel Talmy Kinks production (and yes, I will be eulogizing Shel soon). Paul #1’s guitar snarls with all that thick, nasty midrange we love. Paul #2’s drumming is delightfully bashy. Ric Six’s basslines walk all over the place like he’s that maniac in The Rezillos OD-ing on Pixy Stix. And Norbie’s inspired antler-helmet lunacy rides atop it all, yelling, “YEEE-HAAAAWWWW!” the whole way. Nice reverb box crashes on the faux surf instrumental “Mr. Boddy,” too—a treat for fans of vintage sounds.

As if the music wasn’t enough, Norb wraps the EP in graphics evoking an early ‘60s iteration of the board game and credits the band as various Clue characters:

• Rev Norb as Professor Plumb: Vocals, Nonsense

• Paul #1 as the universally beloved Mr. Green: Green Guitar

• Ric Six as Colonel Mustard: Bass, Pipe

• Paul #2 as Mrs. White: Drum, Accordion

Next to X’s Smoke & Fiction, Boris Gets A Clue is the best release this year. (Oh, there was that Ramones 1975 demos LP, too.) It should have been reviewed months ago. Better late than never, eh?

Really, all 1.03k Tim “Napalm” Stegall Substack subscribers should buy a copy today. Keep Norb supplied with Taco Bell and Diet Mountain Dew for the next year—or maybe help Boris fund the recording budget for their next album, Boris Shake Some Yahtzee.

Supporting Punk’s Spirit and Stories—Together

Thank you for sticking with me through this journey into the wonderfully absurd genius of Boris The Sprinkler. Their Boris Gets A Clue EP is everything I love about punk rock: clever, chaotic, unrelentingly creative, and utterly unapologetic. It’s artists like Rev. Norb and his crew who remind us why this scene matters—why it’s worth fighting to document and celebrate every offbeat triumph and unhinged masterpiece.

But as I write this, I’m reminded that punk journalism, much like punk itself, doesn’t come easy. Between juggling day jobs that barely pay the bills, finishing two books, and keeping this Substack alive, it’s been a challenging year. Some of you know firsthand the toll this kind of passion project takes. I’ve faced subscriber losses over political posts, hours cut at my day job, and the ongoing hustle of trying to keep punk’s stories alive.

This work demands dedication, not just from me, but from you—the readers who value fearless, independent voices. That’s why I’m offering a 20% discount for life on new or upgraded subscriptions throughout November. If this post made you laugh, introduced you to something new, or reignited your love for DIY brilliance, consider subscribing or upgrading today. Every subscription helps keep me writing, reporting, and spotlighting bands like Boris The Sprinkler that deserve to be heard.

Your support also keeps this space free from ads, corporate filters, and all the nonsense that waters down authenticity. It means I can keep digging into the stories that matter—to me, to you, and to the music we love.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for helping me keep this crap going.

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