(August 15, 2015 at 8:31 pm)professor Wrote: When Obama was running for pres. he was a senator representing zip code 60606.
There are not 7 billion people in the US, where Obama ran from.
There are 42 thousand zip codes in the United States of which he represented that particular one.
Satan IS Zeus, described in the bible as being in Pergamon where Satan dwells.
Satan goes by many names.
Obama is not Satan. Satan will possess Obama, live inside O- it will be like the greatest drug to him.
Obama stated in an interview that was on national TV when he was running for pres. that McCain didn't hold his Muslim faith against him (in McCain's run against O).
BO was quickly corrected by the weasel to say, "My Christian faith", to which O mouthed after the weasel.
Obama was indicating (in a Freudian slip) that McCain COULD have used Obama's Muslim faith against him but did not do it.
The significance of 33 is that it is representative of the one third of the angels who followed Satan, for that reason, it is the highest (publicly revealed) number in the Freemason organization whose god is Lucifer (Satan).
At the moment, all you get are clues and words from prophets.
When he demands his mark on people to buy or sell (Obamacare microchip?) - you will have your proof.
At that point you will have a hell of a choice to make.
Don't make the wrong one.
What the fuck makes you think on any level that Obama is a muslim? If anything he is an atheist that knows an atheist can't get elected. Probably quite common amongst presidents.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
