NYT profiles the liar who made up the story about Michael Brown on his knees with his hands up in the air and his back turned toward Officer Wilson, the reason why the black undertow and white hipsters are all running around with their hands in the air these days.
It’s the usual Bell Curve City babble.
Here are the interesting nuggets:
Johnson grew up in Walnut Park, one of St. Louis’s tougher areas, where he lived in a house shared by his mother and aunt, who had 19 children between them.
Speaks for itself.
He soon left [Lincoln University in] Jefferson City, in part, he said, because he believed police targeted students from St. Louis.
They’re not really paranoid if the cops are really out to get them.
His younger brother D’Angelo, a popular 16-year-old student at Northwest Academy of Law, was killed while drag racing. He lost control of the Pontiac Grand Am he was driving and slammed into a tree. His older brother heard the news and ran to the scene.
Police stopped Dorian Johnson before he reached the car. He fought them so hard that he was handcuffed and taken to a holding cell.
“It was split in half,” Johnson said of the burgundy car. One of its five occupants was thrown from a window, and three others were hospitalized. D’Angelo was pronounced dead in an ambulance.
“I was angry,” Johnson said. “I was telling [the police] this is my little brother. I watched my little brother die.”
On a hunch, I searched my own blog and found this. I thought back at the time that these kinds of things were car loads of blacks joyriding and hitting the gas for no particular reason, or just because they could. Fancy that the only fatal victim of that turns out to be the younger brother of the man who was friends with the man who was central in the narrative of the biggest story of the year in St. Louis and the biggest story of August in the whole country. Anyway, it turns out that the reason these blacks hit the gas is because they’re drag racing each other. That part seems to get left out of media accounts of these stories.
One more thing:
His family called him “Mike Mike,” a name meant to distinguish him from his father. His parents, Michael Brown Sr. and Lesley McSpadden, were teenagers when he was born. They never married, and Brown, who has two sisters and a brother, bounced between the homes his parents shared with their respective spouses. When his mother moved out of the school district, according to friends, Brown began living with his grandmother in the Canfield Green apartment complex.
So Michael Brown’s link to the Canfield Green apartment farms wasn’t his friend Dorian Johnson, but his grandmother.