In 2525, perhaps if we're still alive, thanks to the fearless prattling of Polonius ...

It's always good to start with a joke, but surely the boom tsch should have been along the lines "provided his British passport is cancelled too" ...

Never mind, the pond was inexpressibly moved, almost to tears, to be reminded of its early start as the Michael Duffy Files, a shocking example of the  crime of cyber-stalking, but only done because of dire extremity and extreme vexation.

Where is the Duffster now?

Who knows, perhaps deep in novelistic crime land, repenting of his earlier crimes. 

The pond can never re-visit those days - it would be too much like a Tamworth dog chewing on grass, and anyone who's ever had a Tamworth dog chew grass knows what that signifies (get out the back Rover, get out there quickly).

Never mind, the pond's intrepid correspondent on matters archival also noted how the Duffster eerily sounded like prattling Polonius, which is why it was an easy choice between the dog botherer peddling his anti-republicanism in today's lizard Oz and Polonius on the same theme ...

Perhaps what the parvenu upstart meant to say was that Turnbull reflects the mood of the Murdochian commentariat and their infinite capacity to create a solid hive mind ...

But in a contest between the parvenu and the noble Polonius, prattling away in his inimitable "I'm a republican, but you do know a republic is never going to happen" way, it was never going to be a contest. 

The pond is always loyal, has been loyal and true and faithful for years, and the pond was almost moved to tears - for the second time in the day - by the way that Polonius feared the hurt that republicans would suffer:

Of course the google splash ignored the key point that made the notion of a republic entirely problematic ...

Yes, those damned Islamic radicals have ruined everything, and so we should embrace the sort of royal system that has worked so well in such fine countries as Britain ... and Saudi Arabia ...

Get lost dog bothering blow-in, let us brood along about the hurt with the nervous nelly, hand-wringing Polonius ...

The republic?

By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.

It is back'd like a weasel.

Very like a whale ...

Now there's no point in talking of optimism when there's a prattling Polonius to hand. A generous dollop of doom and gloom is required, a kind of instinctive, reflexive recoiling.

The republic will come soon enough, certainly by the twelfth of never, and that's perhaps too soon.

There's simply no point in thinking about any of it until good old queen Lizzie drops off the twig, and then really it would be too soon to think about while a grieving Prince Chuck is briefly on the throne, and then who would be so intemperate as to think about it and rush to judgement, just when the young 'uns finally get a chance to sit on the perch. Who would want to cast out the fledglings?

Why, if we can take the counsel of the infinite and patient and wise prattling Polonius, we should see a referendum for a model by 2100 and perhaps - let's not rush it - a referendum for the republic by 2150 - and if things are done smoothly and with skill, we should be able to usher in a republic just in time for the celebrations in 2188 ...

Even then, it will be quite a task, but the pond has every hope and expectations the future citizens of Australia will be up to the job, counselled by the wise prattling Polonius figures of the infinite future ...

Meantime, let us examine the many vexing problems which will produce inertia at least until the twelfth of never, thereby satisfying the milksop republicans, who pretend to be in favour of a republic but like Paul "magic water" Sheehan display all the strength, energy, courage and fibre of a slice of white bread ... (remember only the 'leets are allowed a slice of the upmarket Paddington sourdough):

Fortunately, Australia will never become a republic in prattling Polonius's lifetime. Happily, he may devote his attention to the doings of the young Royals with some diligent reading of the women's magazines.

No doubt the young Royals have "a certain attraction to Australians of all ages"; no doubt Polonius is amongst the smitten; no doubt he has a daily anxiety attack about the future of New Idea and the Australian Women's Weekly ...

It's good to learn that his aspirations lead no further than the latest news of which young Royal has donned a Nazi uniform for a party, and which one has committed the act of the two-backed beast and managed to breed, because such antics are as distracting and as welcome as two pandas getting it on in an Adelaide zoo ...

Think of the photo opportunities in these troubled times. 

That will lead Australians to focus on the attacks by radical Islamists, because when the going gets tough, we will certainly not rely on the United States. As we did in those glorious days of Singapore, we will turn to gaze towards Britain, and the guns pointed the wrong way, knowing that the Royals and Tony Abbott will be on hand to sort things out ...

It's such a splendid vision that the pond holds out hope that in some future era, some archivist will look back and discover the moment when prattling Polonius made his impeccable case for direct action on a republic ... no later than the year 2525.

Gad sirs and madams, why does the pond always feel like a Colonel Blimp cartoon after some quality time with Polonius?

Thank you ever so much kind sir, might the pond have another? Could we mention dogs, in view of the noble work done by Tamworth dogs?