My father was killed by a dog. My mother went out one day and left my father alone. I was at childcare. She came home to find him dead in a pool of blood. My grandparents arrived minutes later to find her shocked and unseeing on the floor while an ambulance took him away. I was only a few months old at the stage of life where I relied on others for everything. In many ways, this was a mercy. It meant I remember very little of that time, and especially of that day. All I remember is a gut feeling in a red floor. They say smell is our number one sense for memory. And that may be true. Whenever I smell blood, I feel uneasy. But that could be a common trait too. A survival trait. Who knows? The downside of my reliance on others was that my mother had to juggle dealing with dad, me, and the rest of her life at a time when she was grieving. We ended up getting a lot of help from my grandparents over the next couple of years while it all got sorted out. We moved house almost straight away. Mom's idea. I guess she didn't want the dog to find us. I found out about the dog when I was old enough to start asking questions. I must have been about five. Most of the children I knew had two parents, and I wanted to know why I didn't. Mom didn't like to talk about it, and she avoided my questions. To an adult, this would have suggested a subject to leave alone. But children have little tact and are curious. So I pestered and pestered, and eventually my grandparents sat me down and told me that my mother didn't like to talk about it, but that the dog had got him. And it was a great tragedy. They wouldn't tell me anything more, said it was best not to talk about. I told my mother about this conversation, and she sighed. Yeah, well, she said, not quite meeting my eyes. The dog runs in your family. When I asked my grandparents if this was true, my grandfather nodded. When I asked what it meant, he gave me a long look and said, I'll tell you this today, and then we're not going to talk about it anymore. Okay. I said, okay. The dog is, uh, he seemed to search for the right word. It's a thing. We call it a dog. It's not nice. It runs in the family. But what does that mean? I asked impatiently. Grandpa sighed and rubbed his head. It means the dog attacks people. It's out for blood. It kills people. It killed your father. We don't know why it affects our family so much. But it does. It comes for you when it wants and stalks you, follows you, and when it's good and ready, it kills you. His face grew red as he spoke. I didn't say a word. My own cousin was killed by the dog and several others. You know, my mother's brother survived the war. He was at the front. He got back home with not a scar on his back.  He met my eyes. We don't talk about the dog. Do you know why that is? I shook my head. It attracts it. The more people who think about the dog, the more people talk about it, the easier it is for it to hear you. That's what my father told me, and his told him. And now I'm telling you. Don't think about it. Don't talk about the dog.  I nodded silently. He patted my head and said, good lad. I became afraid of dogs. It was not long after that that my grandparents got window. He was a chocolate lab with a waggy tail. The first time I saw him, I squeaked in fright and ran and hid behind my mother. My grandfather asked me what was wrong. The dog. I cried tearfully. It runs in the family. He laughed awkwardly. Not that kind of dog. He said, Oh, I thought, as I stroke the dog, not a Labrador. Despite my promise to grandpa, I would occasionally slip up and ask about the dog. I always got the same answers. The dog got him. What kind of dog, not a Labrador, a black dog, like the Grim, drifting through our bloodline like a hunter sniffing out victims and devouring them. A ravenous beast as slick as night. A wild dog, Winston's dog. I didn't know who that was. I assumed it was the great, great uncle I'd been told of. There were plenty of dogs in our family history. Judging by the myriad of photos my grandparents kept.  Having so many dogs, when one is stalking your family and killing off generations, it could have hidden in plain sight. But then, don't some tribespeople have dogs to protect them from wolves? Or was that a childhood misunderstanding? Whatever the family curse was, it terrified me. My heart jumped a little every time I saw a dog matching the vague description of the Grim. I tried not to let it show. Like grandpa said, we don't talk about the dog. But occasionally, a question would slip past my lips. Or I'd involuntarily jump at the sight of my neighbor's big, Alsatian. It was obvious something was not quite right. Once I saw a friend fall from his bicycle and hurt his leg, he covered the wound with his hands as we walked home.  And I shook from head to toe as I remembered the defensive wounds on my father's body, where the sharp toothed beast had harmed him. My grandparents were generally very patient with me, but it must have been hard for them. I was the living reminder of their son. And here I was, too young for tact, my silence on the matter kept by fear and a promise. It came to a head one day when I mentioned my aversion to the dog next door. My grandmother started crying, and my grandfather took me aside. He told me it was time to stop asking about it. Full stop. No exceptions. I was a big boy now when I had to hold myself together when I saw a big dog, and I had to stop letting questions slip out when it was on my mind. Did I want the dog to come? Did I want it to get grandma? No, no, I didn't. Don't talk about the dog. I put it out of my mind for a few years. My primary school friend stopped asking when I told them I wasn't supposed to talk about it. And by high school, people had just the right balance of social awareness and pubescent awkwardness not to ask. I kept my promise for a long time. Mom fell in love again and married my stepfather. They have two children. I got over my fear of dogs and made friends with the dog next door. Things seemed to be going well. I didn't talk about it for a long time until I was 17. And my cousin Daryl was killed at work. Daryl was a long haul trucker. He was only in his 20s. In the middle of the night, he'd lost control of his vehicle and driven into a wall killed on impact. Grandma and grandpa sat together at the funeral, white faced and tight knuckled as they clutched each other's hands. My mother and my aunt and uncle sat together, trying only to get through the day. I sat alone. My mind was worrying. It didn't make sense. Daryl was a competent driver. Yes, it was nighttime, but he was not in a dangerous area and conditions on the road were fine. My aunt and uncle said he'd not been himself lately. But that didn't explain him losing control of the vehicle. The truck itself was in good shape. And the resulting investigation found nothing wrong with it. So how? So as not to upset my family, I turned to the internet for answers. I searched stories of car accidents and strange occurrences expecting to find something about road conditions or a manufacturing problem. Instead, I ran across something that made my blood run cold. The black dog. Pesitant, I clicked on it. My childhood fears tumbled toward me pixel by pixel in Indiana Jones ball of ever growing questions. Some people said it was a specter sent to warn of danger. Others said it was a mind trick and illusion brought on by exhaustion or those isolated hours on the road. Whatever it was, many people had experienced it.  It usually proceeded in accident or worn the driver to take a break. The driver in the second instance would usually find they had avoided an accident when they got back on the road. For some, it was a curse for others. A blessing. The dog either caused the accidents or saved you from them. And there was another thing I'd heard of before the grim. An outgoing link led me to another page full of information about this shaggy black dog who appeared to warn of danger, often creating a feeling of impending doom before an accident. An omen, apparently folklore, but I knew better. I was horrified and furious. I'd tried so hard not to talk about it, but the dog had still come and he'd got daryl. I wanted answers and yet I'd promise not to ask. So I said nothing.  And that worked fine. It was slightly stressful, forcefully pushing the thought of the dog out of my head as soon as it came. But I managed it. I had to manage it. And then when I was 21, my uncle went missing. He was found on the moors after a few days. At the bottom of a cliff face, there were bite marks on him. Wild animals, they said. Not unusual in this area. But certainly unusual for them to get that close. They generally kept away from people. He must have seen it coming because my aunt said he'd left a note at home saying he loved her very much. He'd been distant these past few months, she told me. Nervous, withdrawn, like Daryl was, she said, wiping her eyes. I can't help but wonder if she didn't finish the sentence. My mother gathered her up and led her quietly to the other room at that point. But I knew what she was about to say. The dog. I can't help but wonder if the dog got him. I wasn't all that close to Daryl. We saw each other occasionally and talked a little, so it was no surprise I hadn't thought too hard about the change in behavior prior to his incident. But now I knew there was a connection. It made sense with what I'd been reading about the grim, a sense of impending doom, nervousness, withdrawal. My uncle and cousin knew the dog was stalking them and tried to keep it quiet to protect others. That note. And it hadn't been enough. I saw red. My hands began to shake. I very nearly threw up right there at the kitchen table. Ryan. My mother appeared in the doorway. She looked me up and down. Are you all right? I nodded. Sheila and I are going to take a quick walk. She needs to get out of the house for a few minutes. Are you coming? I, uh, I need a bit of time to myself. Can I stay here? You sure? I nodded. She came over and kissed me on the cheek. Okay, we won't be long. After the front door closed, I sat for a while to calm myself down, then headed upstairs.  If there was anything I could find to stop it, I was sure I'd find it there. My uncle had been a keen diarist. Not only that, but he was supremely interested in family history. It probably would have been him I'd peppered with questions as a child if we'd seen them more often. I felt guilty about that now. Maybe if we had, it wouldn't have happened. His diary wasn't hard to find. Top drawer in the bedside table next to a bottle of prescription pills and a pair of glasses. I flipped to a random page. Saw Vincent today. Lunch at the king's arms. I tried another page. Sheffield United. Bolton Wanderers 4-0. And another. Dogs got me. My heart leapt. That was it. A scrawled paragraph at the end of a recent entry. It was messier than the rest of the writings, as though he decided at the last minute to write in it. The diary continued. The dogs got me. It never goes. Sometimes I forget for a while, but it always comes back. Every creek of the floor boards when the house is empty. Not empty. In the emptiness lurks the dog. Winston was right. Winston again. A relative. The diary continued.  Need to tell someone. At the same time, don't want to burden anyone with the knowledge. Smile and get on with it. Maybe it'll go away. Like a cold. Looked into family history surrounding it. Appalling number of people. Wrote them down. All lies at the funeral homes. Made it easier for the families. But we know. Always the same.  Chokes you. Tears you open.  Nippin' at your heels. And you just? Well, not anymore. I was interrupted by footsteps coming up the driveway. Shit. I pulled my phone out quickly and took a photo of the page. What was that he said about writing down names? In the back of the diary, there was something that looked like a list. I photographed that too. The key turned in the lock and my heart jumped. I closed the diary, shoved it hastily back in the drawer and ran for the bathroom. I got there just in the nick of time. When we got home, I went to my own room and looked at the photos. They were blurry, but mostly readable. The list was in two columns, a number of names and dates from the past hundred or so years, and a short section of notes on each one. It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing. But when I saw the first few letters of my father's name in a pixel smudge at the bottom of the screen, I realized what it was. There were 23 almost all male, all aged between 15 and 43. My uncle had clearly done his research. In the right hand column, the notes read things like drowned in river, allegedly witnessed falling from bridge seen running earlier behavior changed in preceding months. The causes of death were all the sort of things someone might say to cover up a supernatural curse, drowning, poisoning, 19 of them had been confirmed to have had some behavioral changes in the months before their deaths, withdrawal, disrupted sleep, self isolation. So they knew, I reasoned, they knew the dog was coming for them. And as though my interest in the dog had become a beacon, so it came for me. It started small. I found it hard to sleep one night. That was fine, that happens. But then I found it hard to sleep another night, too. And another, I simply couldn't get the thoughts in my head to quiet down enough to do it. I tried sleeping pills for a while, which helped at first, but made me feel sluggish during the day. When I stopped taking them, the sudden insomnia came back. Is it insomnia, if you can sleep for a long time, but it takes ages to actually fall asleep, whatever that's called. I had that. I'd go to bed at 10 or 11, and not drop off until three or four in the morning, then I'd either wake up for my alarm at seven feeling like I was made of grumpy molasses, or sleep until the afternoon, at which point the cycle would start all over again. Then I started seeing it everywhere. Not obviously, but in little things.  They'd never been there before. I walk past it every day. Or the poster at the local shop advertising dog walking. A huge black dog stared at me from the page. I saw less daylight now that my sleep schedule was so messy, and little flickers of light would sometimes appear in my vision. The internet suggested they were illusions brought on by tiredness. But I couldn't help but wonder. I was sure I saw the dog there sometimes out of the corner of my eye. But whenever I looked, it became a trick of the light. And I'd look over my shoulder several times before fully shaking off the feeling I was being watched. I found myself losing concentration over simple things. My music, my sport, I'd be in the middle of an activity and my focus would just wander off somewhere. I was in the middle of a game and just watch the ball shoot past me. It was an easy shot. I knew I ought to kick it. I knew I should want to kick it. But it just didn't occur to me to even try. I was so zoned out, I barely noticed. I came to when I heard the ball hit the floor. My teammates were staring. I felt embarrassed. My mate Josh came jogging over and clapped me on the back, saying, Hey, you alright? Yeah. Yeah, I answer. Sorry, I just, I don't know, zoned out. Evans, what was that? shouted our coach. Sorry, I just, I got distracted. He nodded. Alright. Go again.  I saw Josh give me a concerned look, but the game continued and I ignored it. Just a momentary lapse in concentration happened sometimes. But it started happening more and more. The things I was passionate about took a backseat to this feeling of irritation. I grew techie and antisocial. I'd never been an introvert. But I began avoiding people. I kept thinking I was imagining things because I'd have nightmares about the dog. I'd feel uncomfortable around people I used to enjoy spending time with. Because I was scared they noticed something was off about me and ask about it. And how could I explain? What was I going to tell them? Oh, sorry, guys. I know I've missed a couple of practices here and there. Sorry, I didn't come see you play on Saturday. It's just I think a dog is stalking my family and killing people and I've been a bit worried about it. No, who on earth would believe that? On the way home in the dark, I heard an animal walking behind me. When I looked back, there was no one there. But something rustled and I saw a pair of eyes glinted me from the park bushes. Josh asked if I was all right when I jumped in fright. He said it was a fox, but I wasn't so sure. I became more and more withdrawn. I shut myself in my room and would only come out when necessary. My family grew worried. But I insisted I was fine. I didn't want to make them worry about the dog. If they were thinking about it, as grandpa had said, maybe it would come for them. And I would have killed my family. The thought made me feel sick. So I distanced myself from them because I didn't want them to suffer like I was. I was asleep deprived mess, unable to focus on things I cared about. I came home from a football game and dropped my muddy kit in the corner of my room. I stared at it. I needed to wash it. If I didn't, I couldn't play next week. But I just couldn't get my legs to lift me up and walk me to the laundry. I couldn't sleep. But I'd make myself. And then in the morning, I couldn't get up. If I didn't go outside, I figured the dog couldn't get me. Sometimes in the half awake delirium, I thought I could hear it snuffling around outside, trying to get in. I hid beneath the covers. I could have cried, but the stress had zapped me of my energy. And I lay silent. One night, I heard my mother on the phone. She spoke in a low voice. I listened. I'm not proud of it. I'm worried. She was saying back turned to where I stood on the stairs. He's listless. He's behaving like his father did before I perked up my ears. What if? What if he goes the same way? I stepped back. My stomach dropped like I'd been kicked. She knew she knew about the dog. But if she knew I was in trouble, or she was in trouble, she was thinking about the dog, which meant it could get her. No, you didn't talk about the dog first rule, just like the first rule of Fight Club.   The next day I went to my grandparents house. Grandpa would know what to do. He'd held off the dog for 70 years and must have known every trick. Maybe he knew how to get it to leave you alone. I knocked on the door. Grandma answered. She looked happy to see me. I hugged her. Hello, Ryan. Hi, Grandma. I pulled my backpack over my shoulder. Is Grandpa here? I wanted to ask him something. Through there, love. Thanks. Is everything all right? Yeah. Yeah, it's fine. How about you? She smiled. Oh, you know, I nodded.  I never wanted to know. But I nodded anyway. Grandpa was in the dining room reading. He looked up when he saw me. Hello, Ryan. Hi, Grandpa. How are you? I'm all right. How are you? Oh, you know, I nodded and dropped my backpack to the floor. I pulled out my phone open to the diary pictures and handed it to him. What's this? He asked. I don't know how to say this. So I'm just going to cut straight to it. I said, I think it's stalking me. He frowned. What? That that animal is stalking me. What animal? The dog. I stared at him. He looked concerned. His lack of immediate understanding made me suddenly nervous.  I know you told me not to talk about it, but I think it's stalking me. Grandpa had gone white. Oh, no. He said, no, Ryan. I'm tired. I said, cutting him off. Exhaustion lined my words with anger. It's draining me of my energy. I can't fall asleep at night, but then I can't get up in the morning. I'm distracted. I'm bored. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder.  Actually, Ryan. He began, but now I was practically yelling. Music and football aren't the same anymore, because I'm so paranoid. I feel like crying. I'm scared. I don't want it to get me or mom or you or the others, but it got 23 people already at least. And you said not to talk about it, but I thought about it. And I took secret pictures of Uncle Kieran's diary because he thought about it too. And I know that's messed up, but I did it. I'm sorry. And I read things, and now it's noticed me. And I'm scared I'm going to be next. And you know what? Part of me. Part of me actually doesn't care because then this would stop. At least it would just stop. I froze. Grandpa was crying. That was weird. Grandpa didn't cry. Grandpa.  I felt instantly guilty. I went to pat him on the shoulder. I'm sorry. I said, I didn't mean to. He sniffed and wiped his eyes. I'm sorry. He said, it's okay.  What? You were so young. We didn't want you to know the dog. I didn't like what was happening. I felt the footing had changed all of a sudden. Hesitantly, I said, you told me never to talk about it. He held his head in his hands. I shouldn't have told you that. It doesn't stop it. It makes it worse. I don't understand. We thought you knew. We thought you knew what it meant. Grandpa, you were so young. We thought you'd figure it out. He shook his head. Ryan, your dad wasn't attacked by a dog. He killed himself. I felt the ground fall away underneath me. What? He cut his wrist. They say men usually pick something else, but he took a knife from the kitchen and he ran a finger down his arm. I don't know if he wanted to. I don't know. I felt sick. Like my world was spinning out of control. I had to grab the kitchen bench to keep a hold of myself. But but the police came. Mom said they they found him in a pool of blood and the dog I slid gently to the floor. The dog was we didn't want to tell you the truth. I'm so sorry. I thought you'd figure it out when you're old enough. When I was a child, you didn't talk about it. I shouldn't have told you that.  It's genetic, a predisposition in our family, not everyone, but especially the boys. He got on the floor and hugged me. His arms were strong. I let him hugged him back, absorbing that news with a weight of a dozen lies. I understand now. The dog was never a dog.


Hey there friends, thanks for checking in. What you're looking at is the Beretta website. This is the real Beretta website. You can see it has their logo there, firearms gun accessories, they're offering some sales, some nice pictures. Over here we have some different categories, some discount codes, and of course their firearms. This is the Beretta website, legitimate. Here's a shotgun A300 Altima, looks kind of new, very cool semi-auto shotgun. And then down here we have all of the information, whatever category you want to check out. It's all right there. This website is called beretta.comen-us. But over here we've got a website that is completely fake. It's a scam website called berettafirearms.com. And over here they stole the logo and added firearms USA. And when you go, you can see they took this picture, very easy to copy, a picture, download it, you know buy beretta pistols, beretta handguns, beretta shotguns, for sale at berettafirearms.com. So we're going to look a little deeper into this. Here are the categories. Check this out, beretta shotguns. And they have handguns and some very, if you look close you'll see that these are a little blurry, very blurry pictures. They're not crisp and clean. If we go to Beretta, the store here, we look at pistols. You'll see how nice and clear the photo is. But yet we come to Beretta firearms and we can see they're a bit blurry. But this is under Beretta shotguns. They have all these handguns, these shotguns add them to cart. But I'm going to go ahead and add something to the cart to show you what I mean. Now here's an M9A3 legitimate and true. And there it is. All right, it says buy now. But when you click buy now, it takes you to a dealer. So if I put this information in, it'll give me my local gun dealer that has the M9A3. But here it is. All right, the MSRP on this approximately $1,100. They have the various models. All right. But this is the M9A3. Now if we go to the fake website, there's the M9A3. Same picture. A little bit more blurry, not as clear as that right there. Okay, you could scroll in, you could take a look. All right, let's see if I can. Well, I can't enlarge it. But over here, I've got the same picture. And they copied and pasted the specs on it. All right, shipping and delivery. They say they ship everything for free. So that's a big time bonus. So we've got the legitimate and the fake. Now this website here looks real. They're charging $1,085 for this gun. So approximately a $14 savings. Not that great. Some of these other sites offer a couple hundred dollars discount. It's completely fake and phony. But check this out. So you go to contact us. No phone number, nothing. You can see the card there. Log in, register. It takes you to this exact same page. You have your categories here. So I use Jack Warren at jwarrantyahoo.com and I'm going to send a message. Your scam site was featured on the firearm guy YouTube channel. Check it out, losers. So I'll go ahead and send that in from Jack Warren. Oh, hang on. It doesn't want to send. Hmm. I'm wondering why that won't send. It's not even giving me the swirly circle there to tell me that it's thinking. But speaking of the M9A3, here's a $14 savings. I put this in my cart and look at what they have. Zell and cryptocurrency and free shipping. Your personal data will be used to process your order. Support your experience throughout the website and our privacy policy to make it seem as if they're legitimate. But Zell and crypto is how they are accepting payments.  Shopping cart. Check out order complete. Have a coupon. Returning customer. Click returning customer. Who would return to these idiots? They're trying to scam you out of money. Now I am sure Beretta is aware of this site much like CZ was aware of. CZfirearms.com and Dan Wessonfirearms.com. Here we have Berettafirearms.com. I'm told by people that have watched those videos say, you know, Canik, Kel-Tex, so many others. I mean, if you search Beretta, this fake website will show up in the search and it makes the buyer believe that it's real and it's not. And so one way you can know for sure is if right here, Zell and cryptocurrency or PayPal or Cash App or some of those other ones that Venmo is another one that you know it's a complete fraud. Beretta, Firearms, USA, they took everything most likely from overseas. Very hard to get these removed. I know CZ is trying. I'm sure Beretta is trying. I may contact them tomorrow just to see what they have to say. But that's what's going on. Berettafirearms.com.  Stay away from them and we'll see. I just might feature Kel-Tex, Canik and some other ones that are out there. They're not hard to find guys. I will tell you it is very easy to do that. If you like videos like this, please subscribe and share. I always appreciate thumbs up button. Thanks for watching and you guys be safe.


Hi, I'm Jess Riga. I'm a junior from Citroën, Massachusetts, and I'm studying applied mathematics And I'm part of the women's track and field teams. I knew growing up I mean I played sports my whole life and then in high school I continued to play sports all the time And I knew as my high school career was ending that I wanted to continue athletics And I didn't want to give up my you know athletic career yet and looking at D3 schools It was really important to me that they showed such a strong passion for you know your sport And they showed a lot of passion here for track But also academics and it was that good balance for me of you know I can still continue my passion and be a part of a team that has a lot of passion for the same thing that I do Then go to the classroom and be with kids who have the great passion for you know Math for me in that case and then also still have time to have those friends outside of my sport and hang out with others So it's good balance and then when I visited Stevenson the sense of community it had and the sense of unity That was here is what ultimately really drew me here And I knew being far away from home I would still feel like this could be my second home and I'd feel very welcomed here. I Definitely want to go into the business field with my mathematic background And maybe become an analyst and look at that type of information So I think being on a team and having that sense of teamwork and that sense of communication is huge Being a student-athlete you have to communicate with a lot of people whether it's coaches or professors or other teammates So definitely in the workforce, that's really going to help me there and definitely time management You know student-athlete there's a lot to juggle sometimes and that will definitely prepare me And I'll be ready for whatever it has to throw at me I mean some nights there's late nights and you're gonna have to deal with it You know sometimes everything all has the same due date The big meets are at the same time the semester ends and that's definitely kind of a hard thing to juggle But when you have people willing to help you when you've been working all semester and kind of planning ahead That's definitely that was definitely the hardest part Recently in the last month. I had a great meet. It was our opening meet for the indoor season And I hit a PR and that was really big for me because as I said it was at the end of the semester I had been working so hard in track and school But you know come that Saturday when I had to throw I was able to pull everything together and let all my hard work That I put into track show and I was really proud of that moment to finally you know break the barrier into a new meter and Just grow as a thrower


Hey, welcome to MIT. I'm Quentin McArthur, the Associate Director of Admissions. But I actually prefer the title Director of Overall Inspiration. Are you ready for this? I'm here with Frankie Pena from McAllen, Texas. Frankie is a dancer, and he is a graduating senior in Brain and Cognitive Sciences. Good to see you. Likewise. Was MIT always the dream? Or did MIT come about a little bit later on in your thinking? So until I got to ninth grade, I didn't even know about MIT. I come from a family where my parents didn't even go to college. My father worked from a very young age, but he's always been very hardworking. And now he opened up his own business. And my older sisters did go to college, and they went to the University of Texas Pan-American, so they could still live from home. And so it seemed like that's what I was going to do. I was just going to follow in their footsteps. And then I got to the Ivy School. And it's basically a concentration of all the nerds. And I found familiar. I saw this one student that I just related to a lot. He was from a low income background, and he was Mexican. He's so relatable. And his name is Jesus Uniga. Jesus. Yes. He came here. Right. He was of course 16. Yeah. Good job. I told him about this, too. I told him about this. He was taking all the card math classes, and he got into MIT that year. He was a senior. But then I found out what it was, and I thought it was just awesome school for people interested in math and science. And I thought, if he could do it, I could probably try. Yeah, there was just a switch that year. And I just got really focused. I was like, this is not an easy place to get into. I've got to really focus. I'm going to have a set plan. I'm going to take all the math classes I'm going to do as much as I can, and I'm going to make it happen. So that must have been really exciting for you getting into MIT. Now, you said your parents hadn't graduated from college and may not have known all that much about MIT. Did they have any reservations about allowing you to come out here to the East Coast? In their mindset and their culture, it was you stay at home until you get married and then you go off and do your job. But you stay at home with your family because that's so central to what's important in life. And to them, this idea that I would go 2,000 miles away, they almost took it personally at first because they didn't even know about MIT. And so I had to tell them how I just have this dream and I want to pursue it. And that helped them realize, well, it's not about leaving us. It's about you pursuing your dream and we're more than happy to support you in doing that. But it was a talk at first. And now they were obviously still super proud and stuff. So they brag about it to their friends and things. But at first. Tell me about your major at MIT because it sounds like you started out in physics and then you transitioned. When I was in high school, a friend introduced me to this book called The Fabric of the Cosmos. It's physics for popular readers. So they didn't go to technical details, but to the extent that he could, he explained huge steps, the whole history of physics today, like how Newton came up with classical mechanics and then how people totally flipped the story with quantum mechanics and then how at the same time, people like Albert Einstein flipped that story as well about general relativity. And so what they hoped to get to is a theory of everything. So something that explains not just what's happening out in the galaxies and how they rotate or how they gravitate, but also how things going on at the levels smaller than an electron, how those events also occur. But marrying those two huge levels has been a huge struggle of physics for the last decades. And so that's where they were going. And I thought, maybe I could be a part of this. So I came into MIT thinking, you know what? I'm going to do physics. And I'm going to help with the theory of everything or some part of this huge story of physics. And then I took the classes. And they were a lot more difficult than the high school classes, but I did OK. And in particular, I got involved in a research group led by Alan Gooth, who basically put the bang in the Big Bang theory. And so I was like, wait, wait, God, I got it. This is going to be so cool. It turned out that what Brian Green writes about is all the cool parts after all the hard work has been done and after people have done all the technical details. And for me, getting into the nitty-gritty of the equations and the MATLAB programming or whatever programming used, they ended up not being my cup of tea, I suppose. I realized that there's still so much more to explore at MIT. That summer, I read another book, this time by Stephen Pinker, called How the Mind Works. He didn't talk about the biology of the brain. He talked about, for example, why do we love and how does that work or why do we have emotions at all? A lot of interesting things. And I thought, but that assumes that the brain is a black box. And I want to know what's in that black box. And there's some pretty interesting researchers here at MIT doing that. So I started going in that path. And I have loved it ever since. I know you're affiliated with a fraternity here on campus. Could you tell me a little bit about your fraternity community? So I'm part of the New Delta fraternity. It is MIT exclusive. There is no other chapter. I got to know the brothers of New Delta. And it just seemed like the kind of people I'd want to hang out with. We were comfortable with each other. I immediately felt like I could totally be friends with all these people. So that got me interested. And then I think the real reason that I joined was also because I like being in a home. That's how I always felt in McAllen. And the dorm life didn't seem too much like that, at least in my perspective. It seemed like this building with 400 strangers. And I wanted to be a part of a home with everyone knows me and I know them. And we hang out often. Delta's good. I like New Delta. Cody Coleman is an alumni of New Delta. That's episode one through your history. So Frankie, have any of the MIT faculty members been particularly helpful or supportive of you since you've been here? Yes. I could not have gotten into graduate school without way thing Sue. She's the professor whose lab I've joined two years ago now. And when I told her that I'm interested in graduate school, she immediately was like, there's this bar here and you're going to meet it. Because I know I see it in you and you're going to meet it. Well, actually, the bar was over here. That reminds me of a very famous quote by a social psychologist who was a guy named Asa Hilliard, who was a professor at Georgia State. And he said, I see the genius in you. And it was like a motto that he had for educators to really help empower students. I see the genius in you. And I am not going to let you fall short of that. You are going to not just meet but exceed the standards that I have for you. Because sometimes, especially when people are young, they don't always carry their dreams for themselves yet. Sometimes it requires parents or teachers or mentors to see the greatness in the person before they see it in themselves. It works best when they see it in themselves from day one. But we all need some time to grow and develop. But it's important to have those people too. We can't do it on our own. Not at all. There's so many people that have helped me, my teachers in particular. Best part of your MIT experience? Mocha moves. Mocha moves. I don't know why. I joined when I was a sophomore and I still ended. What is Mocha moves? It's a hip hop team. It's this place where I can forget about all the P-sets and the research and just on top of that, also go into my hip hop alter ego. So Frankie, what is your hip hop dancing Mocha moves alter ego name? FX. So we're here with FX and he's about to show us some of his Mocha moves. So FX, I understand that you are excellent at a number of different types of dance, but you are gonna teach me a little bit of salsa. Okay, I'd love to. Who is this? This is Sonora Dinamita, which roughly translates to sound of dynamite. Dynamite sound. Yeah, yeah, yeah. One, one, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. There you go.  Frankie, this is what I do. Do the robot, do the robot. I'm here. Mocha moves. If we want to go into hip hop, we can do that at some other time. Okay. Okay. All right. We'll work on that. I have no moves to teach Frankie. Frankie is the master. FX. We could do some Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Oh, Jesus.


Why did you do that to your face?  Get your cloud up, Aiden. You'd be surprised how rarely I have to deal with this. This is like a rarity for me, man. Do you guys have to do this all the time? This is f***ing... Don't make fun of my record, y'all. Relax. Let me see. You have a good record while I'm just saying that. That's how you feel when you're in a flash. I'm sure, Junior. There he is. Oh, that's the first time. That last time. Man, I really shot that. And it went in the net. My witness did. I gotta bleach my eyes now. I think we're taking this a little too far. Hold on now. Don't act like I can't. BAH! Don't act like I can't, though. You know? Cause that's when it becomes disrespectful. Man.  They got you cold already. If you hit that. Man, I am trash. Clean. Clean. Iso. Okay. Oh, it hit his toe. I tried to tell 2K, man. If they don't patch these stretch bigs, everyone is gonna have a stretch big by November. They ain't listen to me, man. Oh. How'd you see me? Shot. Is that not a still 2K? You got to be f***ing kidding me. I got you. I got you. Why not? Get out of me. Get out the way. Get out the way. Boom. Boom. You better dunk it. Oh. No way. What? Yo, pause. Pause. I got screened. What? Shot. You don't have follow fame dead eye, man. Yes, I do. You have it on gold. I sort of got it's gold. You have it on me. Yo, I'm pretty sure we're getting on the house. My man's not playing. I pulled a swante. Alright, my man's not backies. What is going on here? Hit me. Huh? Never mind agent. You want to see a glitch that you've never seen before? You want to get banned by running 2K? I got this. Shot. You literally, they're getting raw doggies inside, bro. How are they gonna do that with a glass? There's nobody in the middle of the paint anymore. Shot. Lane. Fredo was out there catching predators and being very, very vile. And I was like, man, we can't mess with you no more. So we left, man. Yeah, LA got to go, bro. Trust me. Not in chief. Imagine blaming the release because you're an incompetent NA2K player. Just try me with this exact. Try me, buddy. Try me. I've seen it all, bud. If he hits it. Yo! This game is perfectly fine. No need to balance. Leave it as it is. Yo! I'm there. No, I wasn't there. Even though I was there, I wasn't. That's cool. Yo, G-man. What would you say is the best dribbler in the 2K community? It's obviously, Steve. Like the man, like... Sorry, are you trying to say Davis is trash?  I hope you watch this week. You gotta bless you. Yeah, watch out for this guy's threes.  Like, look at that. 2K. Is that fair? Come on. Use your brain, devs. No. Jump, jump. I gotta jump. Alright, let me have a bowl, G-man. Bring the bowl up. Isolation dribbling here. Looking for the ankle breaker. Got it. Literally, we did nothing the entire game. It was just you. Yo, that was... Yo, that was... He's everywhere. Clean. That's easy. He's gonna get my takeover. Hi IQ. Nice dribbling, dude.  That sucked. Davis isn't much good himself. That's why I lost my hair. I used to have you, like, G-man. You don't have no clout, so you gotta give me something. You know, for teaching how to dribble. Like, yo, I got my hair. You sacrificed your hair, man. That's a sad story.  What? Have you ever seen that before? It's like I jumped it at the rim, man. Man, I got rimmed. Stop lagging. Be great. What was the green animation lagging? Listen, listen. I don't have that equipped. Screenshot the green, then. I'm a foul on him. I do it even foul on him. Oh, bro, that's a mean. He got cornered, though. Damn, bro, I thought he was gonna drop back. Mr. Big Shot 151 in the low post. Look at his shoes. Fighting for positioning. Drop step. Lagging jumps. Geez, lagging. Look at this. Nice catch, 2K. Next time, I think you should give me a normal one. How about that? I think it was the best. Oh, my God. That's tough. Another dot. Shoot it over, bro. Shoot it over, bro. What? See what I'm saying? I don't know if you can do that consistently, though. 3, 3, 3. Good jump, good jump. Oh, my God. Imagine, imagine. Green, get off the spot real quick. Thank you for having my back. Agent, that's all you, agent. Hallelujah. Good take. Hey, I don't know. Nobody else is doing this. Let me chill. He's gonna copyright me. So we're gonna calm down, huh? I have to pick it. Look at me being great. Yeah, literally let him walk right by me. Dot. Yes. Okay. Imagine. Hey. Oh, my God. You want me to guard that, man? No, don't. That's the biggest insult you could give me, man. Don't fall. Go ahead and do that again real quick, man. I can't do it again. Of course you can. Yo. Is that man helping? What kind of jazz player would do a layup in a situation like that? I'm gonna paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint. There we go. Cash. Hey, give me. Come on. I'm hitting that. Hold up. Hold up. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Agent, finish this game. Now they're getting straight to the paint. Pin it. Yeah, imagine shooting that.  Why is he holding it the whole time? Man, he dropped it. Whoa. Killers.  Oh, I'm gonna wait him for connection. Appreciate the push. I'm gone. I shoved him twice. I shoved him twice. Buckets.  You were locked down. You got no stops.  Oh, man.  That's how you boost your stats, ladies and gentlemen. You just wait till the end of the game. You know what? Let me just be toxic. I'm just pulling that dude's face. I don't care anymore. I shoved the shite out of him. Let's get it. Oh, they're mad. They're mad. I'm being toxic. Can you do that? I had no idea you could do that. Yo, that's a double dribble.  Let me get that. Get the ball right back. Another ankle breaker. Double team. Look at him. He's reaching now. He doesn't like really what else could he do? Right? He's not going to try and flip. Goddamn. Look at that. I got the most ungarble move right here. Hey, just censor this part of the video. I don't want them another.


Pulling the trigger, it's a Zen state of mind. This recruit honestly just thinks about like hunting and like keeping calm. Because if this recruit starts rushing, then her shots are all over the place, but she mostly keeps like breathing steady.