Beg pardon, dear reader, slightly slow start, but herewith the Best Of Silber archive gets going, disclosing the secret of how Gus didn’t get a speeding ticket in Tzaneen.

We were just outside Tzaneen, on the R71 to Phalaborwa, a road that serves little purpose other than to cleave the mopani-veld in two and allow you to get to the Kruger National Park as quickly as possible.

Just how quickly, became apparent when a man in a smart brown uniform leaped onto the tarmac up ahead, waving his hand excitedly in the air.

This is a sight that always makes my heart sink to my knees, whether or not the person is wearing a uniform, and I just managed to steal a glance at my speedometer as I shifted my foot from the petrol to the brake. I was doing 90km/h, or thereabouts. Which wasn't a problem, since this was a 120 zone, right?

I drifted into the minibus taxi lane, took a deep breath, and cut the engine. In the back seat, the children were yanking their iPod buds out of their ears with looks of just-awoken confusion on their faces. We weren't there yet, and neither, from the look of it, were we at a Caltex One-Stop or an Ultra City.

In the passenger seat, my navigator gritted her teeth and asked me how fast I'd been going. I was hardly doing anything at all, I said, knowing full well that a more precise answer would follow shortly.

Then the man in uniform was leaning down and looking in the window. He was a burly man, brimming with official good cheer. "Good morning, good morning!" he said, "how are you?" I said I was fine, thanks, and established that he was fine too. Then he asked for my driver's license.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" he said. I shrugged. "About 70 or so?" He told me: "Ninety-four point seven. In a sixty zone."

I feebly said I hadn't seen the 60 sign, which was true, but not very useful. The traffic officer asked whether I would like to see the reading.

Back to the, er, past . . . This month we've changed our name from The ColdType Reader back to the original, and simpler, title of ColdType. It's the third time we've changed our name: the first incarnation of ColdType was in tabloid printed format; then, after a long hiatus, it became ColdType2, an e-magazine inside ColdType.net. After a couple of issues, we switched to the less-confusing ColdType Reader. Now, with our 57th issue, we're back where we began: ColdType. – Tony Sutton, editor

How the black majority vote has failed to deliver the economic emancipation of Africans. By Vince Musewe

JOHANNESBURG 5 November 2010- Our voting and political systems in Africa are inappropriate and fail to ensure that those with the necessary skills and competencies occupy political office.

I read a very interesting exposé on African history on BBC's website that has led me to confirm that we in Africa are not likely to see an end to racism and really we should not spend too much energy on it but rather focus on how we can create our own new democratic systems with the necessary institutional capability to cause economic emancipation of the poor majority who in hope have continued to vote dictators into power. The piece I read says:

"People in Africa were burdened by colonial perceptions of who they were. The British believed Africans were essentially different from Europeans and would stay that way. This point of view invited racism, implying that Africans were not just different but also inferior."

Yep, to give the half-hooked reader more reason to return to democracyversiontwo.com, we henceforth shamelessly steal James Greener's Tidemarks, the most gripping money-column we ever did see. Of course, you can rightly say that, in itself, that isn't a big deal, the field being split between brain-imploding Personal Finance and heavyweights writing Greek to impress us with their depth. But James goes way beyond; (a) he opens your eyes, over and over; (b) you believe him, mostly; (c) you actually want to read him, it's not duty. Mirabile!

If you get addicted check the lifetime supply of back copy on www.tidemarks.blogspot.com. Welcome to James, plus thanks, not least that D2 readers now have something that changes like clockwork every week. [There'll be more. Watch this space].

Almost all of this month's rather modest 3% total return from the All Share index occurred in the first few weeks. Thereafter the market has put on a virtuoso performance of matching ups with downs, mixed with copious indecision. The banking sector has found the going particularly tough. But mining houses and rand sensitive resource exporters appear to be benefiting from all the waffle about currency wars. The steadily rising prices of commodities suggest that someone somewhere is always keen to buy something either to eat or to make into something else. One particularly interesting segment of this market are the so-called rare-earths of which China seems to have an inordinate share and which recently they have declined to sell to anyone. Many of today's essential electronic gadgets need tiny but critical amounts of these elements. Watch this space.

When Tafelberg recently launched Denis Beckett’s own story of life in the 80s, Radical Middle, Mail & Guardian editor Nic Dawes was invited to introduce the book, and the author. Dawes received a standing ovation; partly because everyone was already standing, and partly because he didn’t mince his well-thought words.

Is Denis Beckett a ‘hard bastard’ and is his kind of discipline 'just what this country needs’? You tell us. And if you don’t already have a copy, read to the end and find out how to get one gratis, free and for nix. (Sadly no bonus points for knowing what ‘asymptotic’ means.) 

I’ve been trying to figure out why I was asked to speak here this evening. It certainly isn’t because Denis and I share a taste in shirts.

So, is it just because I have become a kind of a rent-a-rant on freedom of speech issues and people know that I’ll cut the ribbon at the opening of an envelope if it gives me a chance to ventilate on these issues?