Even on a day largely devoted to tradition, you couldn't keep the politics out of parliament.
The 44th Commonwealth parliament finally opened on Tuesday with everything changed: the coalition on the Speaker's right, the much diminished Labor on the left, a sea of new faces and a new speaker, the redoubtable Bronwyn Bishop.
It was the final, visual illustration that power had crossed the floor.
But first there were rituals of varying provenance, starting with a welcome to country that enabled Tony Abbott and Bill Shorten to briefly embrace a little consensus on matters indigenous.
Soon this was overtaken by Westminister tradition, with no discernible acknowledgement that this is Australia, not Britain.
There was considerable to-ing and fro-ing between Reps and Senate chambers, usually involving the Usher of the Black Rod, Bronwyn Notzon.
She had the exciting job of informing the Senate chamber, overflowing because 150 MPs from the Reps were also there, that "the Deputy" was approaching.
The Deputy was actually Robert French, who was representing the Governor-General and had the job of declaring the place open. It seemed odd to call the Chief Justice of the High Court a deputy.
Later, Black Rod announced the Governor-General herself was approaching, as was obvious enough. Quentin Bryce's canary yellow dress could be seen a pace or two behind.
This time Bryce herself summoned the MPs from the Reps.
"I desire their attendance," she said with antique haughtiness.
The Reps have to come to the Senate because of a bit of unpleasantness involving King Charles I (the one who lost his head) and the House of Commons. As a result, monarchs and their representatives aren't allowed in the lower house.
That's about as relevant to 21st century Australia as the oath of office taken by all MPs and senators, which involves promising allegiance to the Queen, but no mention of their own country.
Politics kept popping up in between the tradition.
The Reps elected Bishop speaker after Abbott broke with tradition and personally nominated her. Usually backbenchers nominate speakers, which was the case when Labor put up a rival, Rob Mitchell.
There were some short speeches from both sides that were larded with jokey malice. Labor clearly didn't trust Bishop to be fair.
She was elected 93 votes to 56, which was an early reminder to Labor that they face a dismal three years.
Once installed, after a totally unconvincing display of the traditional reluctance to take the chair, she fired off an enigmatic warning to Labor: "Sometimes you can talk yourself more into trouble than you can out of trouble."
One MP missed the vote. Clive Palmer got himself sworn in then disappeared until his lunchtime appearance at the National Press Club where, among other things, he whacked media mogul Rupert Murdoch for not paying his journalists enough.
Meanwhile Abbott, not having a parliamentary pulpit, called a news conference to demand "Electricity Bill Shorten" have a "light-bulb moment" and back the repeal of the carbon tax.
That was a little warm-up for Wednesday, when the house gets down to real business, starting with a tranche of bills including the carbon tax repeal legislation.
The Governor-General, back in the Senate, started with what's traditionally called the Speech from the Throne - a speech written by the government about its program for the coming term.
It was a dense, detailed 30-minute speech largely devoid of the oratorical flourishes of most political speeches.
By the end, her voice was struggling and Abbott's eyelids were trying not to droop.
Labor whooped in derision only once, when she came out with a well-known Abbottism about Jakarta, not Geneva, being the foreign policy focus.
The speech was presumably written before the little matter of boats caused some difficulties with the Indonesians.
