I like any stand against prejudice that seems entirely constructed out of other prejudices.
Personally, I'm still not sure who Danny Baker, so he might, in fact, hold a KKK membership card (gets you half price at Olive Garden on Wednesdays). But he says he isn't, so like the grand old Bishop of Occam, I'll take up the razor and go with man's own explanation that he was a bit of thoughtless dick.
Had I not read about the broken people trolling her online, I would have been unaware of her heritage. I stretched to vaguely knowing she was American. I spent an entire five minutes on Saturday trying, with the help of my wife, to figure out who the Countess of Wessex was. We got as far as her being one of the Not-Kate ones. I was once castigated strongly by two Swedish ladies for lack of knowledge about the British royals. I know, that's not the sort of sentence you expect to feature two Swedish ladies. I also once to bluff it Thailand, which didn't work out very well since my hosts turned out to know far than me about British royalty. I do the same with football, you know, when it's easier to just pretend you know something than offend your host with a blunt 'honestly, I couldn't give a shit.' Some, erm, excellent kicking. It never works.
Reminds me of the chapter in Jon Ronson's You've Been Shamed about the woman who makes sarcastic tweet before getting on a long haul flight, with what now should be predictable conclusions.