Tallahassee remains swampy as ever.

In case you missed it, there are big changes afoot in Tallahassee.

For decades, lobbyists sucked up to legislators and showered the politicians with cash and gifts, which the politicians joyfully accepted.

But now, things are supposedly different. Now, lobbyists are on notice. In fact, House Speaker Richard Corcoran’s office sent members a memo last week telling them they can accept only … wait for it … “reasonably sized” floral arrangements from lobbyists on the session’s opening day. Boom!!! Revolution!!!

Take that, special interests!!! That’s right, Big Sugar. If you were thinking of sending the head of the House environmental committee a full-blown bougainvillea bush, think again … or at least think smaller … like maybe roses and carnations with a sprinkling of baby’s breath.

See, legislators so love the tradition of receiving flowers on the opening day of the session that, years ago, the politicians exempted the bouquets from the state’s gift ban, so they could keep receiving them. Corcoran’s office wants to at least keep them small … for “security and decorum.”

Really, though, grassy graft is the least of Tallahassee’s issues. As the Sentinel’s Gray Rohrer reported, special interests have funneled enough campaign cash to legislators to fill a greenhouse.

Corcoran alone has filled his political committee with millions of dollars in recent months — $20,000 from a casino company, $25,000 from Big Sugar, $100,000 from the Big Business consortium of Associated Industries and $100,000 from a West Palm Beach law firm.

And that was just over three days in November.

And we’re worried about floral arrangements?

All told, Corcoran’s PAC has taken more than $5.4 million over the past six months — more than twice the amount collected by the entire Florida Democratic Party during the same time.

That’s certainly not to say Democrats wouldn’t love to suck up more special-interest money. They desperately wish they could. But since Democrats in Florida are about as relevant these days as pagers and floppy disks, they don’t collect as much.

Still, the Democratic Party’s six-month haul includes $10,000 from timeshare interests, $15,000 from the state teacher’s union and $25,000 from the Seminole Tribe of Florida. All of these donors want things from the party’s policy makers.

Then there’s Gov. Rick Scott. He won the respect of many Floridians when he first ran in 2010 by spending more than $70 million of his own money. A lot of people liked that he didn’t need money from special interests.

Maybe back then. Since he got elected, Scott has morphed into an industrial-strength vacuum cleaner, sucking up tens of millions of dollars — more than $50 million in the