From the 1960s to the 1990s there was a false consciousness perpetuated by the Leftist and Jewish-controlled media regarding the alleged superiority of the Negro boxer. Results seemingly supported this, and social factors were ignored. European training methods and facilities were well behind the times in comparison to those of America, and boxing was well-funded in the inner city areas dominated by Negro demographics by both governmental and private "philanthropy". In spite of this, there was still a steady stream of White European world boxing champions from Britain like Ken Buchanan, Barry McGuigan, Terry Marsh and Alan Minter (who sadly died last year). Many Western European countries also disprivileged boxing as a sport as politics moved to the Left and therefore away from traditional forms of masculinity - although there was a definite double standard when it came to non-White males. Boxing clubs were closed in Britain's industrial towns, but funded in the inner cities, while the sport was banned in countries like Sweden. Of course, half of Europe's boxers were denied the chance to compete in the professional ranks because of the Iron Curtain. The Hungarian Olympic gold medalist Laszlo Papp managed to sneak over to Austria to compete as a professional and go unbeaten in 29 fights before the communist authories put a stop to his career right before his world title bout in 1964.
In Saturday's Sun newspaper, Jeremy Clarkson, a motoring journalist who has been elevated to hero status and low-cultural icon beause he has mouthed a few mild utterances in favour of civic nationalism and, it must be said, due to his wit, humour and televisual acumen, used the fullness of his column inches to make a serious point about the legislation being brought in by the British government to curb freedom of speech and expression. This act has been called the "Snooper's Charter", although its real name is the Investigatory Powers Act 2016.
Austrian arthouse film Egon Schiele: Tod und Mädchen
is perhaps most disappointing in that Egon Schiele led a very interesting life, yet the scriptwriter Hilde Berger and director Dieter Berner have succeeded in making it appear rather dull, in the same way as Mike Leigh served up a snore-fest about J M W Turner a couple of years ago. Perhaps the two most interesting aspects of Schiele's life, his trial for paedophilia and his experiences in the First World War, are completely glossed over in favour of a superficial overview of more or less his entire adult life. There are of course reasons liberal fans of Schiele would want to avoid these issues, which we will address.
