
Cassidy Krug and Thomas Brazzle share stories about the men whose brutal dominion over their lives shaped them fundamentally, and the long, complex reckoning that followed. Guest host Taj Easton holds both stories with warmth, honesty and just a touch of his own bitterness on the subject.
Loading summary
Taj Easton
On this week's episode of Risk, you'll hear Cassidy Krug, why are you even here? And you'll hear Thomas Brazil.
Thomas Brazil
Call 911-baby. Call 911.
Taj Easton
On the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. Hey, everybody. This is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Taj Easton, and I'm sitting in this week for Kevin. This episode is called Fucking Brutal Authority. It's just called Brutal Authority, but I wanted to get the energy in there. It's about brutal fucking man shit, okay? It's gonna fuck you up if you're not ready to hear about man stuff. It's men being men, you know? We're flawed, we're complicated. We're fucked up. God damn it. Get off our back already. I'm just kidding. It's the full range, really. We're just fucking scared. But also beautiful. I love men. Kevin loves men so much that he only wants to sleep with men and live with men. Is that misogynist or. I don't think so. It's just the way that he was born and how much he likes guys butts. Later, we're gonna hear from Thomas Brazil, but for now, Cassidy Krug brought us this amazing story, incredibly complicated and layered, and I love it so much. We're gonna take a break and we'll be right back. Mom, can you tell me a story?
Cassidy Krug
Sure. Once upon a time, a mom needed a new car. Was she brave? She was tired mostly, but she went to Carvana.com and found a great car at price. No secret treasure map required.
Taj Easton
Did you have to fight a dragon?
Cassidy Krug
Nope. She bought it 100% online from her bed, actually.
Taj Easton
Was it scary?
Cassidy Krug
Honey, it was as unscary as car buying could be.
Taj Easton
Did the car have a sunroof?
Cassidy Krug
It did, actually.
Ashley Johnson
Okay, good story, car buying.
Cassidy Krug
You'll want to tell stories about Buy your car today on car finance. Delivery fees may apply.
Ashley Johnson
What happens when two people who grew up in a very strange corner of Los Angeles look back and realize just how bizarre their upbringings really were?
Taliesin Jaffe
They start a podcast, of course.
Ashley Johnson
I'm Ashley Johnson.
Taliesin Jaffe
And I'm Taliesin Jaffe. Before we became the Internet people we are today, we spent our childhoods as working actors, appearing in shows like Growing Pains and films like Mr. Mom.
Ashley Johnson
In our podcast, Weird Kids, we're diving deep into our unique upbringings, our friendship with each other, and all the delightfully odd interests we still carry with us today.
Taliesin Jaffe
In each episode, we get to share stories of our youth, the things that bring us joy, the problems that we face, and occasionally the friends we've collected along the way.
Ashley Johnson
If you're a misfit, an outcast, or just a weirdo who loves all things nostalgic and unconventional, come take a seat at our table.
Taliesin Jaffe
Each week we'll be releasing previously members only episodes on YouTube and all major podcast platforms, with new episodes dropping exclusively and ad free on Beacon tv.
Thomas Brazil
Most people don't struggle with investing because they're lazy.
Cassidy Krug
They struggle because they don't know where to start and who they can trust. This is the Investing for Beginners podcast. Each week we break down investing in
Taj Easton
plain English so you can make smart decisions with confidence.
Thomas Brazil
And we do Q and A episodes with real questions from listeners because the stuff you're trying to figure out is exactly what everyone asks.
Taj Easton
I'm Stephen Moritz. I'm Andrew Safet.
Thomas Brazil
And I'm Evan Wright.
Cassidy Krug
If you want investing explained clearly, listen
Taj Easton
to the Investing for Beginners podcast. Wherever you get your podcasts, here's Cassidy now with a story that we call Twist and Shut Up.
Cassidy Krug
I was 18 years old the first time I witnessed pure fury. The year was 2003, and it was my third day of diving practice at Stanford University, where I just gotten a scholarship to to go to school and compete on the diving team. The sun was shining, the sky was this endless cornflower blue. The music I remember was weird for a diving practice, a mix of songs from the musical Rent and power ballads from a voice I didn't recognize. I later learned that the team didn't always get to listen to music at practice, but when they did, it was always this mix CD made of songs specifically designed to put my new coach, Frank, in a good mood, and the power ballads were by his favorite singer, a Norwegian soprano named Sissel. I didn't know much about Frank yet. In fact, all I really knew was that his Boston accent was so strong that in a lot of our recruiting conversations, I didn't really understand what he was saying. About halfway through this third practice, a junior named Jim did an inward one and a half. An inward is when you stand backwards on the end of the board and when you jump, you somersault towards the board, and on the start his body lurched just a little bit towards the board, which meant that the dive rotated just a couple inches closer to the board than it should have. Before he even got out of the water, Frank had leapt from his chair, torn the aviators off of his face, and thrown them back in this chair. His head had turned from this normal color to a bright red purple. The vein was popping out of his forehead, and his blue eyes were literally shaking with rage.
Kevin
You want to kick your ass?
Cassidy Krug
I was 15ft away on the diving board, and I saw the spit flying out of his mouth. If I ever see you that close, I don't know it again, you're out for a week. You're off this team. When I looked over at Jim, his mouth was this small stoic line, and his eyes were wide, and he was making these tiny nods, looking like an animal about to die. Jim's next inward, of course, was way out in the middle of the pool. And when he came up, Frank was back in his chair, lounging aviators back on. And he said, you can't. You just do it like a normal person. Over the first couple weeks diving with Frank, I learned a lot about him. I learned about Frank time, which meant that if you're not 15 minutes early for a practice, you're definitely late. I learned that he had zero regard for gray area. It felt like every dive we did was either the best ever or the worst I've ever seen. I learned that the best ever musical was not actually rent, it was Les Mis. That he'd seen it something like 29 times and that nearly every performance had made him cry. I learned that he ran a workout very differently than what I was used to in high school. Back in high school, we'd come into stretch, and we'd drape ourselves on the mats like dirty laundry, lounging and flirting and complaining about how tired we were. And eventually we'd drag ourselves into sport mode.
Taj Easton
Mode.
Cassidy Krug
Frank's stretching mat was a military exercise. We'd go in and do our arm circles and pike stretches and lunges in this coordinated routine that everybody knew but no one was ever taught. And while we were doing it, Frank would fire off questions to the upperclassmen about Russian politics and David Brooks's latest column in the New York Times, and they would answer him without missing a beat. There was no side chatter, and there was no lounging. The first time Frank told me he could put me on an Olympic team, I thought he was blowing smoke. I responded something like, well, if all goes well. And he looked at me with those laser blue eyes, and he said, why are you even here? Why are you doing any of this if you're not willing to dream the dream? When I got to Stanford, I was an okay diver. You might call me big on talent, short on finesse. I was strong, and I Could do harder dives than most of the other women in the pool, but there was a pretty good chance I'd land them either on my face or on my back. I was also sort of medium invested. I practiced three or four times a week. And if there was a group of dives I didn't feel like doing on any particular day, I didn't do them. I approached diving sort of like a slot machine. You know, I might do five front three and a halfs in a practice, and on one of those, my takeoff and my rotation and my entry would align like those three cherries, ding, ding, ding. And I'd land on my head and I'd feel this small jolt of accomplishment, like I won a small lottery or performed a small miracle, and that was enough. At Stanford, we trained really differently. Our days started in the gym in the mornings before the sun rose, doing models of our dives on the floor, like slow motion tai chi. And then we'd do faster pieces of them, like somersaults on the floor or on the trampoline. And then we did thousands of hurdles just trying to time the board right. And then I fell into the water, like, literally fell into the water thousands of times to do the movements that would help me go in without a splash. And the more I trained like that, the more my body started to appreciate the more subtle winds. Like, you haven't really lived until you've been in the middle of a lightning fast front three and a half pike. The force is pulling your cheeks back and pulling small drops of water out of your hair. Or until you've ripped the shit out of an entry, your hands stretched above your head. And then like a God, you part the water and make a hole for your body to go through. The thing about dreaming the dream, like saying, I want to go to the Olympics, and meaning it is that it makes every dumb little thing you do matter. Now, another thing I picked up about Frank, and that you might have picked up too, is that he yelled a lot. Like, God damn it, Courtney, point your goddamn toes. Or sometimes he'd turn around, throw his hands up in the air like he was walking to his office and done with all of us. And he'd say, gahage, absolute garbage. I spent most of the fall quarter of my freshman year wondering when he would yell at me and even more than that, what I would do when it happened. I was a pretty good kid growing up. I never got yelled at. I never really even gotten in trouble. And so I didn't know would he yell and Then I'd freeze up. Or would I get really scared, or would I get mad and storm out of practice? I just had no idea how I would react. I had noticed that some of the upperclassmen got yelled at and some of them didn't. And when I asked Courtney about that, she shrugged her shoulders and she said, he doesn't do it if it doesn't make you better. One day, a couple months into my freshman year at Stanford, I was practicing front three and a half on three meter, and I was throwing some stinkers. So, ideally, when you do your front takeoff, you're supposed to time it so that when you go down on the end of the board, the board goes down with you, and then the board goes up and it throws you up, giving you a lot of height and a lot of time to do whatever dive you want to do. But on this particular day, I was not timing the board well at all. Instead of landing gently on the end of the board, my feet were hitting it like bricks. And my dive was spinning like a sweet square wheel. And then I was hitting the water like more bricks. And I did this once, and then again and then again. And I was getting more and more anxious, my shoulders all tight, my brain getting fuzzy, my eyes kind of fuzzing around the edges. And this thought kept cycling through my head. I can't do this. I can't do this. I don't belong here. And after a few turns of this, I came out of the water and I looked over, and Frank had stood up so fast that the wheeled desk chair he sat in was rolling back to the wall. And he was so tall, just looming over the pool, that it was like he was blocking out the sun. And he opened his mouth and he yelled, are you autistic? And I just froze. There I was in the pool. One hand was on the ladder, my heart was beating a million times a second, but I couldn't move. It was like I had been shot through with adrenaline, but it had nowhere to go because I couldn't say yes to that question. I couldn't say no. And I really couldn't say the thing that I was actually thinking, which is, that's a really fucked up thing to say. And while I was standing there, he said it again. Did you hear me prove, are you autistic? And I. I just looked at him, he looked at me. I couldn't dignify that question with a response, but I also just couldn't stand there forever. And then he said it one more time. Can you make a Circle. Are you autistic? And at that point, Courtney, who had been diving with Frank since she was 8, came over and whispered, he's asking if you're artistic.
Taj Easton
Oh,
Cassidy Krug
oh, artistic. Oh, artistic. Could I make a circle with my arms? The kind of circle that would keep me in timing with the board and help me write it down so that my dive was better artistic? And I said, oh, yes, yes, yes, I can make a circle. Yes, I can make a circle. And he said, we'll make a circle next time. I got back on the board and I made something approximating a circle with my arms the next time. And the dive was better and everything was calm for the rest of practice. I ended up diving with Frank for nine more years, four years in college and five after college. And in that time, I probably heard him yell thousands of times. And sometimes I learned he did it to set the tone. Frank had a PhD in sports psychology, and so he knew that anxiety has the same effect on the body, no matter its source. So if we could do our dives with a madman yelling at us from the side of the pool, then maybe we could perform our dives under pressure in a competition. And sometimes, and this was the worst, he did it to break patterns. I can't tell you how many times I'd be at a practice and I'd do one rep, two reps, three reps, badly. All the while knowing that if I couldn't get my shit together, I was gonna get my ass handed to me. And I would get hyper fixated on the glare coming off the water, the dryness of my contacts, the headache forming at the base of my skull. And I would say the things in my head that I was supposed to say, like, you can do it and your body is capable of making this change. But those words rattled around like they had no weight. And then inevitably, on the third bad rep, I'd come out of the water. Frank would be out of his chair, aviators off, and he'd say something like,
Kevin
why do I have to be if
Taj Easton
you're not gonna try?
Cassidy Krug
No, it's not for Torko.
Thomas Brazil
Why?
Cassidy Krug
And the strangest thing would happen. The bullshit, my dry contacts, the glare, my headache would clear away, and there would be this perfect clarity. And I get back on the board, and I'd do my dive, and I would make exactly the change that I had started to think was impossible after these particular practices. I'd get out of the water and I'd go sit next to him, and I'd clutch my shins and try to Ignore my goosebumps. And I'd feel like dog shit. And he'd look at me and he'd say, why do I have to be an asshole in order to get you to listen? And I wouldn't have an answer. I would just sit there, staring back and not knowing what the answer was. And finally I'd get up, I'd be dry, little chunks of cement sticking to my butt, and I'd walk off to the locker room. When I stopped diving 15 years ago, I was the best 3 meter springboard diver in the country. I made it to the Olympics. I was one of the best divers in the world. And while I've actually done a lot of cool things since then, I mean, I've built a career. I've given birth. I've never had a moment that's so dense or as bright or so powerful as the Olympics. And I'm not sure I ever will. Today, when I try to speak objectively about my coach and the way he motivated. A lot of people look at me like I've escaped some sort of abuse, and part of me sees what they're saying. I will always wonder if I could have reached my peak without someone using the verbal equivalent of a cattle prod to get me there. And I'll always wonder how nine years of diving with Frank was changed me. Like, would I be better at trusting my gut now? Would I be better at making decisions without someone else telling me what to do? Would I be less sensitive about what other people think of me if I hadn't dove with Frank for nine years? Recently, Frank and I were catching up over a Tangerian tonic at a steakhouse bar. Of course, he's in his 70s now and he's still coaching.
Kevin
And.
Cassidy Krug
And he batted me on the shoulder and he said, buddy, you wouldn't recognize me. I don't yell anymore. Kids are different now. They take it more personal. It's not the same. It doesn't work as well. And I should have been overwhelmingly happy that kids these days don't have to deal with that dog shit feeling of being yelled at by someone from Boston. But I also was like, what if some of his divers are built sort of like me and need an uncomfortable shove to get out of their heads? Or maybe they weren't born with this deep, innate passion and they needed someone to show them how to obsess a little more. No one in my life has ever treated me the way Frank treated me. And I don't want them to. But sometimes I wonder. Like the other day, I was trying to write a complicated essay, and I just couldn't get the pieces to fit together. And I. I put it down and I probably won't pick it back up again. What if I had someone in my life today like Frank to take me from I can't to my goddamn bed. When I was in advertising, I'd set my alarm an hour early every morning to write before work, and I'd snooze through it every time. What if I had someone like Frank around to hold me accountable to the goals that I'd set for myself? In writing, we talk about raising the stakes of a story. And in a lot of ways, Frank raised the stakes of my life. And sometimes I think we should all be so lucky.
Kevin
Sam,
Taj Easton
Folks, taking a break.
Sponsor/Advertiser
Folks. In my 40s and 50s, one of my biggest disappointments has been that no one ever really taught me about skincare. I just come from a generation of midwestern men who were really out of the loop for decades. So in recent years, I have experimented with a gazillion skincare products. But I found it's just so overwhelming. There's so many different things I've tried that left me saying, okay, is this doing anything? You know, there's a lot of wrinkles now and the dullness and looseness and the dark circles and bags under the eyes, it stresses me out. So I have to say I'm also genuinely grateful that our sponsor, Oneskin, sent me their OS1 peptide products for the face and under eye treatment. I'm actually seeing and feeling an unmistakable difference. My skin is brighter and it's tighter, it's softer, it's not greasy. And even the under eye, the tired, dark, baggy stuff is fading away. The thing is, as we age, some skin cells stop functioning the way they should. Longevity scientists call them zombie cells. And One Skin's OS1 peptide was specifically engineered to address those doing something most skin care was never built to do. Their results are backed by four peer reviewed clinical studies, over two 10,000 five star reviews. And it was all born from over a decade of longevity research. One Skin's OS1 peptide is proven to target the visible signs of aging, helping you unlock your healthiest skin now and as you age. For a limited time, try OneSkin with 15% off using the code R I S k@OneSkin Co risk. That's 15% off OneSkin Co with the code Risk. After you purchase, they'll ask you where you heard about them. Please support our show and tell them we sent you.
Taj Easton
Hey everybody, this is Risk and you just heard from Cassidy Krug. Cassidy is a Olympian. I am not an Olympian type person. And the kind of authoritarian method of mentoring that Frank is dishing out, that doesn't work with me. It's antithetical to my own worldview, I think, about parenting and mentoring. Listening to Cassidy's story. I'm a domestic violence counselor and I teach classes and facilitate groups. This is something that I have to be very conscientious of. I mean, we teach this stuff actually, because I have classes on child abuse and neglect, rehabilitating folks that have been convicted on those charges. There is some pretty foundational research in this area by Deanna Baumrin. This research really defines three different parenting styles. Authoritarian like Frank, permissive like me. And there's a middle path which Balmrand calls authoritative, not authoritarian. And it's basically a mixture of the two. It's high in warmth, but also fairly high in sort of structure and boundary setting. Here's the thing. I. I'm permissive, so I don't want to tell anyone their business. But Bahmran's research is highly respected in the field. These results have been replicated again and again. And authoritarian parenting gets the worst results across the board. Yelling at people don't work good, so that's vindicating for me. But I'm also not doing the optimal thing. I've seen the research. I know authoritative is going to produce the best results for your student child athlete, but I don't do it. You know, are we all supposed to do this exactly the same? Because the research says it's the most effective. Some of us are just yellers. Frank seems like he's a dude that yells. So Frank's gonna be Frank. And I'm a dude who avoids conflict and doesn't like the look on my kids face when I scream at him. So I don't do it. I like allowing people to be who they're gonna be. Cassidy's question is a legitimate one. You know, is this what I needed to go all the way? Did I need to get yelled at to break out of these loops that she'd get trapped in? Frank would yell at a critical moment and boom, her head's in the game. Is there something else that would have worked? I don't know. I think that's a legit question. Cassidy liked where she came out. She's looking back and she's saying, I think I needed this. And I want to listen to her experience more than Bamryn's paper. My own instincts, what I want to know is this. Hit us up on the socials and tell me, is there a particular style of parenting or teaching that you recognize from your own life growing up that either worked particularly well or felt particularly bad? And do you see yourself now replicating those approaches with your kids, with students, with people at your work? And is that a conscious choice? Are you replicating the patterns that you experienced? Is there something that you're convinced just works, that it's got to be done that way, even if it's unpleasant? I just don't want to get trapped in the loop of repeating what my parents did and what my teachers did, because a lot of that shit is unexamined. You guys get it. In addition to being an Olympian diver, an innovation strategist, a trapeze artist, and a mom, which is probably a more difficult job than being an Olympian, she's an author. Cassidy's book, A Guide to Navigating Life's Biggest Transitions is the result of her talking to people from all kinds of walks of life where folks have to learn how to put the pieces together after some massive upheaval. People have been in and out of prison, people who've made huge career changes, quit marriages, overcome all consuming addiction, or have had their world rocked by deaths or diagnosis. It's something that could be of real interest to anyone who's navigating their own struggles, their own transitions, and trying to figure out how they can resurface. Find Cassidy online on Instagram. Cassidy Krug. That's C A s S I D Y K R U G Risk is an inherently expensive operation to run and we're barely running. We are barely running. If you're listening, we need your help. Look, we've got two new patrons this month that subscribed at the 25amonth level. Damn, that's way more than they needed to do. There's much lower levels than that. These two individuals step the up. I'm talking about Lindsey Duel and Scott Marshall. I could cry honestly right now telling you guys this. Y' all know the drill. Patreon.com risk Become a patron. You'll save our ass. If you don't have the dough to do that. If you can leave a five star review on Apple, podcasts, on podchaser, on Spotify, that's a huge help to us as well. And it doesn't cost you anything. With more good reviews, we live better. Basically, it's simple. Look y', all, I hate the sound of my own voice. Let's get this show on the fucking road. No More dilly dally. No more pitter patter. No more wizzle wazzle. Next story, Thomas Brazil. This motherfucker is gonna entertain you all. And at the same time, he's gonna make you open your heart. Because the story is a tender one. It's beautiful, it's emotional. One thing I have to say about it is it features domestic violence. And that's fucked up, it's terrible. But this is risk. So this is the kind of story you get sometimes. If you're not into hearing that, I understand. Here's Thomas Brazil with his story through the Glass.
Thomas Brazil
Hey, hey, hey. How y' all doing? Yeah, so good to see y'. All. Thank you. Yeah, that's right. As you can probably see, blurred. Totally nerd. Because growing up I loved reading comic books and watching Saturday morning cartoons. I mean, I would watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Batman and Superman Adventures, Spider Man, X Men, yo. Nothing could get in between me in my Sonic the Hedgehog pajamas and a nice big bowl of Lucky Charm cereal. Oh, yeah, except for my dad, of course. Because you see, to him, a seven year old black boy in the south should not be in the comic books, cartoons, reading the novels of Stephen King and Michael Crichton all before dawn. Because you see, he grew up in 1960s Birmingham, Alabama, which at that time was a melting pot for segregation and racial discrimination. So a black boy on the street reading novels was not part of the plan. But for my mom and me, it was a necessary piece of evolution to my role in life. While my dad would have me in front of a 40 inch Magnavox TV watching the exploits of Michael Jordan and Emmett Smith and Jerry Rice, my mom would have me in the bedroom doing book reports on Toussaint, l' Ouverture and Malcolm X and Nat Turner. They did not go together. And so they finally were thinking, we've got to be able to, you know, find a compromise for him. So my dad was like, no, he's gonna be in sports, because those are black icons. They are athletes. At least that's kind of how I thought his mind would talk to him. Whenever he catch me trying to like read a chapter before the game would come on. I mean, he was so desperate, he got me a basketball goal for Christmas and had me going outside in Texas, which in the winter is pretty cold, and he would be like, literally bounce the ball over to me. I'm standing there in my Chuck Taylor's shaking in the freezing cold, looking up at this 10 foot massive goal above me. And he would just stand there with his Black beard, his beady eyes. And then he'd have this backwards cap he always wore when he got from when he was in the Marines in those camo pants and those big old boots. And he just smelt like so cigarettes all the time. Because he would always walk around with a Marlboro Red just going, shoot it. Let me tell you, those are two words that you definitely should not be telling to me because they could have built the Empire State Building with the number of bricks that I was tossing up. So I'm standing there freezing in the cold. My mom is watching this, and she's coming out. She's like, listen, no, no, no. This can't happen and can't do this. So they decided to put me in karate. And I gotta tell you, I was stoked because I could be like those Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Raphael.
Taj Easton
Woo hoo.
Thomas Brazil
Oh, yeah. And I love going to class because we're in this massive gymnasium and there was like all these big bright lights. We're all matching uniforms in our white outfits. We'd be standing on these massive blue mats and we'd just be falling and kicking and having a great time. And my favorite thing is when we graduate to a new belt. And so I'll never forget this night, we're graduating to the blue belt, which, as you can probably tell, blue is one of my favorite colors. And so I was so excited because in order to graduate to blue belt, we had to spar against our sensei. And I loved to spar. So that night, everyone's out in the stands with family and friends watching us. They're cheering us on. I'm so excited. I look out in the stands, I see my brother, I see my mother, but I don't see my dad. So I'm a little confused. But no matter. Tonight's the night. So we start off, we're showing our punches, we're showing our kicks. And then we finally get to the point where we spar. The sensei. You know how everyone's talking about this whole thing about 100 men versus a gorilla? Yeah. This was 100 little kids versus the gorilla. That was the sensei. And we are getting mowed down. Down. We're going up in groups of five. Yep. And I'm just watching my friends getting their butts waxed on those blue mats. And so I'm studying every move and I'm going, you know what? I'm going to take the fight to him. I'm going to be on him like white on rice. So we get up there. My team surrounds him, we bow. And then I'm off. I'm on him all over, kicking high, kicking low punches everywhere. And then I literally try to do this like roundhouse jump kick thing that I must have saw on some movie. And the sensei literally grabs me, picks me up, spins me around, bam. On my back. Don't know what just happened. I literally get up and I look over at the sensei and he's like, good job, tough guy, good job. And I look out into the audience and I see all these people cheering and clapping. And there's my brother, there's my mother, but not my dad. And then that moment, I was deflated. And I remember looking down at the mat and my sensei comes over to me and he puts his hand on my shoulder and he says, what's the matter, son? And I tell him, my dad, he's not here, he didn't come. And then he kneels down in front of me, puts his hand on my heart and he said, son, your father may not be here with you now, but he's always going to be with you in here. And it kind of made me feel a little better. So I got my blue belt. We're on the ride home and I remember us getting into the garage, my mom, my brother and me, we go into the kitchen and instantly I knew something was off. It wasn't the smell of cigarettes. There was this dark gray haze and it had this pungent, moist, just awful smell, which I would learn later in life is marijuana. And my mom points to me and my brother and says, stay here. She goes down out of the kitchen, down this long hallway to our bedrooms, and I kind of walk a little bit behind her and watch as she disappears into their bedroom. After a moment I start hearing shouting and things crashing and breaking. And my mom comes rushing out, coming down the hallway towards me. Her eyes are bulging out, her breath heavy. And then behind her, I can see my father, the 200 pound man, his muscles glistening with sweat, veins bulging, his eyes bloodshot and big, that big beard with just water all over it. And I'm looking at him, scared out of my mind. He grabs my mother, throws her down onto a glass table that shatters beneath her. And she turns to me and she goes, Call 911, baby. Call 911. And I remember running over to the phone in the kitchen that's on the wall. I take it off, I call 911. I hear the operator and then boom. The phone is dead plastic and screws come flying across My face. My father has ripped the phone and out of the wall. And he throws it down, towering over me, this giant of a man. And I just instantly snap into my karate pose. I kick high, I kick low. I punch and push him back. And then he just stands there and looks at me, turns, goes down the hallway into the bedroom. My mom takes me and my brother out of the house and we're on the front lawn. She goes to the neighbor and calls 91 1. The next thing I remember is seeing the blue and red flashing lights just dancing across the bricks of our house. And the police talking to my mom and dad on the front porch. And then the police were gone. No one got arrested. No one got taken away. My brother and I go to our bedroom and that was it for the night. Like everything was okay. But I wasn't. From that night on, I was so scared of my dad because I didn't know what he was capable of. It was like he was a monster. I never wanted to look at him. I never wanted to be around him. I just wanted to get away. And I wished for it. And my wish came true. Because later that summer, I remember waking up one morning in all my toys, my books, my clothes, everything's out of my bedroom. And my mom comes in and she's like, thomas, Alex, come with me. We go down the hall and I remember this image like it was yesterday. I look into that bedroom and I see my father passed out on the bed and. And the sun from their window just glistening over him. He's just sound asleep. And we quietly go to the car. We drive 40 minutes away to Irving, Texas, to a second story apartment where all my toys, my books and my clothes are waiting for me. And my mom says, this is home now. And I was so relieved because I knew at that moment she had got away from the monster that was scaring the living daylights out of me and you. Fast forward 30 years later. I'm at the funeral for my mother, who has just passed away from pancreatic cancer. We're at the Botanical Gardens in St. Petersburg, Florida, one of her favorite places she always wanted to go to. And I just remember the sun beaming down on us, the wind blowing in the trees, the birds chirping. It was just gorgeous. Beautiful. And I look out and all of a sudden, there's my dad. This giant of a man who I had barely ever talked to for 30 plus years was standing there, shriveled, the shadow of himself. No more of those big muscles, no more of that beard, no more of Those beady dark brown eyes. No backwards cap. Just an old man. And he walks over to me and he says, you did good, son. You did good. But then he was gone. And I have to tell you, it honestly felt so good to hear him say that finally. Because I think he understood that even a Blurred could be a great, powerful black man. And it meant everything. Thank you.
Cassidy Krug
Morning.
Kevin
Your glory. Just a nod to the power of stories. Your morning is glorious. Glorious.
Taj Easton
Hey, everybody. That's almost it for this week. Thomas Brazil does a ton of creative shit. He's a writer, director, producer, storyteller. Storyteller. You probably know because you just heard him tell one. That's redundant. That's a tautology. Is that what they call that? It's just redundant. You know, he's a writer, director, producer, and other shit you already know. He's a storyteller. He's a nerd. He's a son. He's a blue belt. He's a cool ass dude, okay? He's funny and charming. I don't have to read all that, do I? Come on here. I got enough to do. Thomas Brazil is straight out of Arlington, Texas. Oh, no, wait. Atlanta, Georgia, baby. He's working in theater and film there. If you're in theater and film, don't hit him up. He's busy. Okay, Maybe you see him around. You can say hi, but the man's working. He's a creator of a solo show called Blurred man. And you heard him say in Blurred, so that's the word is gonna be playing in July on the 14th, 18th, 21st and 25th. You can get tickets@theatricaloutfit.org and you'll have one leg up on all the other audience because you already heard him talk about being a Blurred in here, and you got his whole backstory and shit. You can go in there, you can sit next to whoever you're sitting next to in the audience, and you could look smug. And if they're like, what the fuck are you looking at? You could be like, I already know a bunch about this guy. And they'll hate you, so don't do that. Come on. Let's see what else you could do. You could go and be nice to people and then maybe you get a conversation going, casual, and you could say, you know, I heard a story by this guy on Risk. And then they're like, what's Risk? And you're like, it's the best fucking podcast in the world. You gotta listen and then tell them about our show and tell them to go To Patreon. Okay? And pay us. Please, please, please do watch Thomas's stuff. But if you can help Risk out anywhere in that whole process, that'd be great. Be fantastic. If you can. If you can. Everyone's got limitations. I understand you can find Thomas Brazil online at tbrazzledazzle. Motherfuckers. He didn't specify, so I just try that out anywhere. Instagram, MySpace, any of the websites he's. You just put in T Brazil Dazzle. I'm not going to spell that for you all because it's perfect. That's how language is supposed to work. It sounds exactly like that. T Brazzle, Dazzle. T, B, R, A Braz. T, B, R, A, Z, Z, L, E, D, A, Z, Z, L, E. I did spell it, but just because it's fun, it's impressive. I want to show off. T. Brazil Dazzle. Bitch. Not bitch. That's just me talking. Just T. Brazil dazzle. Empty space, period. Don't put the period in there. That's just. I'm saying, done. After the. After dazzle. That's it. Enter or return or whatever your fucking computer says. Okay, let me see. I got a little more hosting here. Ladies and gentlemen, have you ever heard the phrase, a thin line between love and hate? It is real as fuck. Okay? The line between love and hate is very thin. I'm wondering, have you ever had a relationship that changed dramatically, very suddenly, and you went from extremely one way to intensely, extremely, very different way? Have you ever had a loving relationship that fucking inverted into something that was so utterly and completely wildly different and maybe terrible or just weird? You know, a deeply loving relationship transforming into something totally different that will fuck with your life. That is a really life fucking kind of situation. If anyone who's listening has not heard our episode called into the Moving Dark, featuring Annie Carnreich, which was the first Tuesday in April, is when it came out. This is one of the most amazing stories I've ever heard on Risk. Incredible. Annie's story has a situation like this, A relationship flipping to the dark side at the core of the story. And so we decided we're gonna host this event. It's a Patreon Zoom social event. It's gonna be on Saturday, May 30, at noon, Eastern time. High noon. If you're on the east coast, if you want to come and talk to me and Kevin and some other very cool people, we're gonna be in there and we're gonna be talking about Annie's story. We're gonna be talking about this question. Have you ever had a deeply intense romantic or sexual or otherwise loving relationship that turned into something very different? You know, it's not going to be small talk happening in there, but if you want in, you got to be a patron. Go ahead of time to patreon.com risk you can become a patron. You could sign up and do the social event with us if you want to. You can cancel right after if you want. I don't think there's anything preventing you from doing that. That's cool. We just. We'd love to have you. It's going to be. It's going to be, you know, it's talking time. I encourage you to listen to Annie Cartwright into the moving dark. The other thing that we are going to talk about is LaCount Holmes Jr. Story Pop Obi's vibrator. Now, look, this story is a controversial one. Apparently, people have had a lot to say, and that's cool. I like people. People saying stuff. I've become a little defensive about my friend La Count when people are sounding a little bit judgy, to be perfectly honest. But that's okay. I get judgment. I'm right now judging the people who judged my man. So, you know, different people are different, y'.
Thomas Brazil
All.
Taj Easton
And Risk is kind of like about that. So this is one of those stories that people have had a lot to say, basically. And so we thought, well, that's cool. Let's talk about it. That's kind of a big part of what we do at Risk and the very hostile things. It's part of the deal, y'.
Kevin
All.
Taj Easton
And that's how we foster human connection and build community. You gotta start with saying something. Say something. You know, even if you say something about my friend, that's kind of like. It's very cunty, you know, that's. We can work with that. So this question about whether you've had a type of love that has changed in some dramatic way, we put it to some of our listeners, and we got this response from Adrienne. Check out this little clip. This little clip, this clip, this. This quip. This clit. Clip. Clip. Check out this clip from Adrienne's recording. She sent us just like a voice memo with this story that is bring you to tears. It's just a little piece of it.
Cassidy Krug
She knocked on the window and I opened the car door and I thought, okay, now she'll say the thing I need to hear from her. Now she'll be the person I need her to be. All this time, and she just looked at me and said, how do I get to the cemetery, John?
Taj Easton
It just says reaction. Is the clip funny, or you don't know? Okay, okay. I'll just do a reaction. I'll just do some. I'll just react somehow. Yeah. Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Adrien. That is so funny. I haven't heard the clip yet. I haven't heard any of it. I don't know. This. We're gonna play that whole story at the social event. You know, maybe we'll talk to Adrienne, and we'll share it with everyone who comes to the event. We gotta entice people to come. You see, that's the whole fucking reason I'm doing this. We want people to join the Patreon, okay? This is a promotional shtick I'm doing here. But I fucking hate these. God, I don't know how I got the job of doing these, because I hate it, and I don't even know what the Internet is. Barely. Okay. Anyway, yeah, join our Patreon. You can hear this whole recording because it's amazing. You know, I. If Adrian will let us, we're gonna post this whole story on our Patreon bonus feed because it's really powerful. You're gonna want to hear this because Adrian lets it go, lets it all hang out on her voice memo to the Risk crew, and I'm very grateful. What's that, John? I didn't actually hear the clip. I just. It says reaction in the script, so I hope that was a funny clip. I trust Kevin. Kevin said it was good. So go to our Patreon look for the announcement that's called the May 30th risk social zooms party or some. So it's the May 30th risk. Risk zoom Social on Patreon. I can't get over that it's the. The Risk Zoom Patreon. Seriously, though, am I going fucking crazy or what? We have, like, entire sentences that are, like, the names of companies now, you know? It was like, the Risk Social Zoom patreon sponsored by AT&T. At the Xfinity party, gathering space with Amazon. Ah, it's fucking so dark. And I am actually doing a promotion right now. Oh, my God. That really just actually kind of settled in all the way. I am fucking advertising. This is the end. This. I have to quit for, like, two days. Risk social zoom. Internet, World Wide Web, 12:00 noon Eastern. May 30th, you guys. I'll see you there. I was tough on guys this week. Next week, I'll Be soft on guys, okay? Take it easy. For fuck's sake. God damn it. No, I'm just kidding. I was doing an aggression thing. Performing aggression. Oh, my God. Are we gonna need any of this tape? I don't think so. Next week, I'm gonna be blowing your doors now with a fantastic new episode. Get your fucking socks on. Get ready. I'm gonna choose to shout out one person. I get to do that. They said, my controllers, the people that control my behavior. Okay, they're corporate overlords. They regulate everything I do. But I get to say one person who's on our team that I appreciate. Cindy Freeman. God damn, you guys have no fucking idea. Cindy Freeman. Ah. My verbal systems break down. She's a fucking insanely awesome person. Brilliant and efficient and smart and caring. I can't even believe how she. How does she exist? Back in the day, if Cindy was born at the right time, they would have put her on a tapestry and said, Saint Cindy, Cindy Freeman is a fucking miracle. And I get to work with her. She makes this show happen week after week. It's incredible. Cindy, you're amazing. Thank you for being my friend. You know, I was talking to Cindy earlier. I was telling her some of my personal problems, which I have a lot. Okay. But she just looked at me and she said, hold up, Taj. Look at yourself, man. Today's the day. Take a risk,
Kevin
Lord. A backwards glance in the funhouse mirror Twisting and turning over past banner middle class mannerisms Weird Polaroid rage Cat in the boxing match Horse in the raceless orchard of your teenager these years. A nod to the power of story. Morning of glory. A nod to the power of story the morning was glorious Just a knock to the power to the power of Sorry. Glory Morning Glory still nod to the power of stories not to the power of swearing Glory the morning was glorious Just a knot of our story A nod to the power of sorry Glory Morning and glory. The morning was glorious
Cassidy Krug
Glorious.
Taj Easton
Here is a super short clip of the count.
Thomas Brazil
Would she hit you?
Taj Easton
Oh, yeah, my mother did. She. With the belt?
Thomas Brazil
Yeah.
Taj Easton
Oh, yeah. Yeah, With a belt. Listen, this is a very super short. Any clip right here.
Kevin
I thought I was gonna faint.
Taj Easton
I hadn't committed a crime.
Cassidy Krug
I survived one.
Kevin
None of this made any sense.
Taj Easton
Look, this is Annie and the Count mixed up together. How could this be happening?
Thomas Brazil
But what I found out. Freaky.
Kevin
I love you more than everybody.
Taj Easton
That was freaky.
Kevin
You're the bestest.
Taj Easton
This is Annie. Backwards in the count, forwards and pitched up two octaves. This is a monkey And a wild pig. This is Kevin and a strange exotic bird.
Thomas Brazil
Come get that.
Taj Easton
This is Annie forwards and Kevin backwards. And the count. Inverted spectrometer. It's a. I don't know what you call it. It's a fancy thing. Kevin delayed by 2 microseconds and Annie backwards played in regular time. Count sped up 110. And there are two exotic birds. You want the kids. You want to whisper in my ear. But I don't give a girl.
Thomas Brazil
Cause he gave me a thousand buc.
Taj Easton
This is going to be an all Internet event. I'm pretty sure. I don't know how it works, but it's all Internet or online? All online. It's the. The World Wide Web. They think it's the worldwide. It might be like more of a national. Oh, no, because Kevin's. Kevin's gonna be there. He's overseas. So it's. It must be the World Wide Web online. So you go online, you go to the Zoom, you go to the Patreon, you go to Risk. I don't know. Is that true? You have that. That's like three different websites. Fuck me. I don't even know how anyone figures this stuff out. I was gonna try to come up with like a special tagline or a mnemonic for the event or something because I wanna. I'm trying to sell the thing. So you supposed to make a catchy way to do it. So I was gonna be like the Risk Social Zoom party at noon. That's not good. I don't think our voices. People still have funny voices. I haven't been on Internet culture. I don't. Let's see. It's like the Risk Social Patreon Zoom party. You are gonna want to be there. It's a really cool party, man. Man. We're gonna be doing Zoom, zoom, zoom over at the Social Rich or Risk Patreon Social Risk. Maybe there's a rhyme. Or the Risk Social Patreon Zoom party. Oh, there. You could do a zoom thing. Maybe I could with the audio. Fico. Zoom. And make it sound like it's going past your head. And so that's zoom part. And then Patreon. I don't think there's an audio way to represent that. Okay, so I'll just say that in a funny voice sound. Funny voice. And then Risk. I'll just do the classic Risk whisper. Because people like that. We had to. We discontinued the Whisper. But people are. You know, this is like Coke and New Coke. People want this thing back. So I'll do that. I'LL do a whisper zoo and then Patreon. Or that's got to be a funny voice. Patreon. Patreon. Something. Okay, ready? Join us for the Risk Patreon social event at 12 noon Eastern on May 30th. Remember, you have to be a patron to log on and participate in the Internet event Event exclusively on the Internet. Sponsored by supresk. I'll see you there. I think I nailed it. I think. I think I may have nailed it. Wow, that's rare. I don't usually get a feeling of being so effective at my job. Wow, that's a good feeling. I can't wait for Kevin to hear this. So many Email him.
This episode of RISK!, guest-hosted by Taj Easton, dives deep into stories about "brutal authority," exploring the complexities of masculinity, power, mentorship, and the impact of intense authority figures on people's lives. Through raw, personal storytelling, two narrators—Olympic diver Cassidy Krug and writer/performer Thomas Brazil—share jaw-dropping tales of striving under authoritarian pressure and surviving domestic violence, respectively. Taj further contextualizes both stories with thoughtful commentary on power, trauma, and the legacies of how we are parented and coached.
[Starts at 04:10]
Summary:
Cassidy recounts her early years diving at Stanford University, coming under the demanding, often brutal mentorship of Coach Frank. Through humor and vulnerability, she examines how Frank's yelling, his black-and-white worldview, and his refusal to accept mediocrity pushed her to Olympic heights—while also raising questions about the cost of such methods.
First Encounter with "Pure Fury":
“His head had turned from this normal color to a bright red purple. The vein was popping out of his forehead, and his blue eyes were literally shaking with rage.”
— Cassidy Krug (05:15)
Culture Shock – "Frank Time" and No Gray Area:
“If you’re not 15 minutes early for a practice, you’re definitely late.”
— Cassidy Krug (06:55)
Dreaming the Dream:
“Why are you even here? Why are you doing any of this if you’re not willing to dream the dream?”
— Coach Frank, relayed by Cassidy (08:10)
Transformation Through Process:
Dread of Being Yelled At:
“I spent most of the fall quarter of my freshman year wondering when he would yell at me and even more than that, what I would do when it happened.”
— Cassidy Krug (11:25)
The "Are You Autistic?" Incident: [13:30]
Frank (yelling): “Are you autistic?”
Cassidy (thoughts): “That’s a really fucked up thing to say.” — Cassidy Krug (13:54)
Understanding Frank’s Methods: [14:17]
Ambivalence About Coaching Style:
Frank’s Own Reflection: [18:37]
“Buddy, you wouldn’t recognize me. I don’t yell anymore. Kids are different now… it doesn’t work as well.”
— Coach Frank, recounted by Cassidy Krug (18:40)
Enduring Questions:
[24:13–28:00]
Summary:
Taj Easton, himself a domestic violence counselor, responds thoughtfully to Cassidy’s story, connecting it to Deanna Baumrind’s research on parenting styles (authoritarian, permissive, and authoritative).
Authoritarian (like Frank) vs. Permissive (like Taj) vs. Authoritative (structured but warm).
“Authoritarian parenting gets the worst results across the board. Yelling at people don’t work good.”
— Taj Easton (24:56)
Acknowledges research but wrestles with reality: “Frank’s gonna be Frank… I like allowing people to be who they’re gonna be. Cassidy’s question is a legitimate one… Did I need to get yelled at to break out of these loops?”
Invites listeners to reflect:
“Are you replicating the patterns that you experienced? Is there something that you’re convinced just works… even if it’s unpleasant?”
— Taj Easton (26:56)
Promotes Cassidy’s book about navigating transitions after upheaval (deaths, addiction, career change).
[Starts at 30:43]
Summary:
Thomas shares his journey as a self-described “blurred” (Black nerd) growing up in Texas. He details his turbulent relationship with his authoritarian, often violent father, and his mother’s eventual decision to escape domestic violence—a story that bridges lightness, trauma, and ultimate forgiveness.
Childhood & Authority:
“Because you see, to him, a seven year old black boy in the south should not be in the comic books, cartoons, reading the novels of Stephen King and Michael Crichton all before dawn.”
— Thomas Brazil (31:00)
Sports, Karate, and Seeking Approval:
The Night of Violence: [36:00–38:30]
“My father has ripped the phone out of the wall… towering over me, this giant of a man. And I just instantly snap into my karate pose. I kick high, I kick low. I punch and push him back.”
— Thomas Brazil (38:13)
Escape and Relief:
“I was so relieved because I knew at that moment she had got away from the monster that was scaring the living daylights out of me.”
— Thomas Brazil (40:00)
Decades Later – A Funeral and Closure:
Thirty years on, at his mother’s funeral, Thomas confronts his father, now a “shrivelled” shadow of himself, who says simply:
“You did good, son. You did good.”
— Thomas Brazil (41:51)
This moment, finally receiving acknowledgment, brings bittersweet closure.
“From that night on, I was so scared of my dad because I didn’t know what he was capable of. It was like he was a monster.”
— Thomas Brazil (39:12)
“Because I think he understood that even a Blurred could be a great, powerful black man. And it meant everything.”
— Thomas Brazil (42:08)
[42:40–end]
Summary:
Taj closes the episode by highlighting the courage and vulnerability in Thomas’s story, plugging both Cassidy and Thomas’s creative work, and inviting the audience into conversation about difficult transitions, radical changes in relationships, and parenting styles. He plugs an upcoming RISK! Patreon Zoom event focused on love turning to hate, furthering the theme of transformations in authority and intimacy.
“Why are you even here? Why are you doing any of this if you’re not willing to dream the dream?”
— Coach Frank (as relayed by Cassidy, 08:10)
“Are you autistic?”
— Coach Frank (misheard), pivotal miscommunication (13:54)
“You did good, son. You did good.”
— Thomas Brazil’s father, closure after decades (41:51)
“In writing, we talk about raising the stakes of a story. And in a lot of ways, Frank raised the stakes of my life.”
— Cassidy Krug (20:20)
RISK! is unfiltered, real, sometimes profane, and deeply empathetic. Taj’s hosting is energetic, honest, playful, and often darkly funny, providing needed levity around tough material. Cassidy and Thomas both tell stories with vulnerability, sharp detail, and a blend of humor and pain.
“Brutal Authority” asks listeners to reconsider the ways that power, pressure, and mentorship shape us. It acknowledges the trauma that can result, even as it recognizes that for some, pressure is integral to greatness. The episode invites reflection on the coaching, parenting, and love we've received (or endured), and how we carry those patterns forward.
For more on the storytellers:
Join the conversation & access bonus content: