And instead of the cross, the Albatross around his neck was hung ...

First the pond would like to thank the Anon correspondent who stayed in the Van Onselen twitter loop and so pointed the pond to these tweets:

By golly, that's hard core service, and the correspondent now can stand down and go for a polar bear swim.

You too can head off to the twitterers twittering here, and follow the link to the Wayback Machine here - oh how the pond loves the Wayback Machine - but why bother when the pond can present a matter of national crisis for your consideration here:

Now there are some churlish people who think that Abbott should dump Bronnie.

But the pond prays each day that he keeps the loyalty he's displayed today and guards her back and keeps her on and defends her black and blue.

That means blogs around the land can have endless fun recycling his previous blathering:

Oh it's just too richly post-modern and post-ironic.

About, about, in reel and rout 
The death-fires danced at night; 
The water, like a Bronnie's oils, 
Burnt green, and blue and white. 

And some in dreams assurèd were 
Of the Spirit that plagued us so; 
Nine fathom deep She had followed us 
From the land of mist and snow. 

And every tongue, through utter drought, 
Was withered at the root; 
We could not speak, no more than if 
We had been choked with soot. 

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks 
Had I from old and young! 
Instead of the cross, the Albatross 
About my neck was hung. (and more here)

And now for an artist's impression of Tony Abbott and his albatross: