We are drying out in Western Australia. What would be interesting is to see graphs for the region over 100,000 years instead of 50 odd.

Are dams in Western Australia even viable? The next generation should provide the answers.

Th street where I grew up in Sydney was a war street. There were long silences, then the smashing of glass and screams. Pete and I played Aussies-and-Japs. Pete's father was an object of awe. He weighed barely 100 pounds and shook with malaria and was frequently demented. He would sit in a cane chair, drunk, scything the air with the sword of a Japanese soldier he said he had killed. There was a woman who flitted from room to room, always red-eyed and fearful, it seemed. She was like many mothers in the street. Wally, another mate, lived in a house that was always dark because the black-out blinds had not been taken down. His father had been 'killed by the Japs'. Once, when Wally's mother came home, she found he had got a gun, put it in his mouth and blown his head off. It was a war street.
The insidious, merciless, life-long damage of war taught many of us to recognise the difference between the empty symbolism of war and the actual meaning. 'Does it matter'? mocked the poet Siegfried Sassoon at the end of an earlier slaughter, in 1918, as he grieved his younger brother's death at Gallipoli. I grew up with that name, Gallipoli. The British assault on the Turkish Dardanelles was one of the essential crimes of imperial war, causing the death and wounding of 392,000 on all sides. The Australian and New Zealander losses were among the highest, proportionally; and 25 April, 1915 was declared not just a day of remembrance but the 'birth of the Australian nation'. This was based on the belief of Edwardian militarists that true men were made in war, an absurdity about to be celebrated yet again. 
Anzac Day has been appropriated by those who manipulate the cult of state violence - militarism - in order to satisfy a psychopathic deference to foreign power and to pursue its aims. And the 'legend' has no room for the only war fought on Australian soil: that of the Aboriginal people against the European invaders. In a land of cenotaphs, not one stands for them. Read the full Article at Global Research

It's a culturally significant day, held every year - http://www.awm.gov.au/commemoration/anzac/anzac-tradition/
The 25th of April was officially named ANZAC Day in 1916. It was marked by a wide variety of ceremonies and services in Australia, a march through London, and a sports day in the Australian camp in Egypt.

The timing for making this the official ANZAC day is possibly more in line with Easter, a time to celebrate the God of War, Ishtar.

The Babylonian Origins of Easter (Ishtar)
Ishtar also proclaimed that Baal would be present on earth in the form of a flame, whether candle or lamp, when used in worship - http://www.redicecreations.com/article.php?id=10398 . All our war memorials have a flame of remembrance reflecting in a pool.

Easter Week - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_Week . Easter Sunday 1916 was 23rd of April, the first day of Easter Week. Easter Monday was the 24th & the 25th, Anzac Day is the next day in the week that is not so obvious as most of us only think of Easter Sunday & Monday only & do not realise that it continues for a full 7 days.

The symbolism on the roof of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra our capital city - at 8min6sec in, but the whole clip is worth a watch http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5_vaPttehQ . Every War Memorial in the country (1 in every city) is replete with the same symbolism & architecture.
The timeline & dates for WW1 are interesting - Armistice day; fighting ceases & signing took place at 11am November 11 - http://www.firstworldwar.com/timeline/1918.htm

Your Lord Baal manages the spilling of the blood of your sons with Occultic precision.

Commonwealth heads of government are meeting in Perth, Western Australia between 28 & 30th of October 2011.

The Commonwealth incorporates countries from around the world and is the legacy of British imperialism.