A wonderful moment of abject ritual humiliation and grovelling, demeaning abasement ... and all for naught?

By now it's all over the media, the delightful, grovelling, demeaning abasement of the Speaker of the House.

The pond doesn't usually promote 2GB, known as Goebbels' Best and Finest Shock Jocks to followers of Godwin's Law, but it's all here in audio form.

The apology that came weeks too late; the regret at not making the apology when the time was right, and appropriate, weeks ago; the humble tone of supplication; the piety of a desire to work hard to amend errors and improve ways ...

It was an exemplary example of how to create a bloodlust in the hounds, the weakened faun racing through the forest as the baying grows still louder ... nothing can stop them once the smell of blood is in the nostrils, and the display of weakness - the cowering of the cur, so to speak - just incites the mob.

A similar process is at work with a hunter who now finds himself amongst the hunted, newly understanding the role of a cavity in the molar of life.

The problem for Bronnie is that all the defence work, all the fortifications, all her office's explanations, are now revealed as so much humbug and a waste of time. Everything's going to be re-paid; all this talk of mysterious assignations and important business was so much hot air.

Can she make her way back from all this?

She's fatally wounded in the public's mind. She can now be taunted and teased by the opposition and the cross-benches anytime they want a distraction. Any ruling she makes in parliament will be open to defiance.

It's common for a mea culpa to precede a final ritual moment of seppuku and that surely is still the most likely solution to a mess which will never end. It will recede, but like a potent virus it will bob up again and again, unless the boil is lanced and the wound cleansed.

Just how many cliches can a politician's predicament provoke?

Who knows, but any time hereafter that Bronnie attempts to don her headmistress tone and spank the opposition, she will be judged as a fallen sinner and heckled with glee ...

The pond wants her to stay, so much more fun and mayhem might yet follow, but being armed with an ample supply of peanuts, and a good spot in the pits, would be just as happy to see her go.

Please rush off here (with forced video) to make a vote:

It's a scandal that some four per cent have found in her favour, and this must be diluted by all those who want the spectacle to move to an appropriate and dramatic conclusion.

Politics can only work, much like drama, as catharsis. And so we must move to the end of the third act as soon as possible. Whatever that might be. A happy ending where she stays and endures endless tumult and torment ... or a happy ending where she retreats to the back bench ...

In the meantime, the pond is profoundly grateful for the great facilitator who made it all possible.