I suppose that when one is deeply alone and very obviously without God, anything that sounds like it might be from God is worth a mountain of gold.
What worth are a few pennies in a trashcan? I suppose they're worth everything when one is so used to receiving nothing worthwhile from God. These worthless prophecies are like pennies at the bottom of a filthy trashcan, and the only ones who seem to value them are the starving poor. These prophets have no choice but to glorify themselves, reminding you at every turn what they prophesied - because they too are starving, and they need to be fed. But God has refused to feed them, so they turn to you - and you oblige them everyday. The starving poor feeding the starving poor.