Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 151 as they explore Lucian of Samosata’s hilarious account of Alexander the False Prophet. Discover ancient snake cults, golden loincloths, the Second Sophistic, and resources to master the Latin language.
Introduction: Dickensian Felines and “Taking Care of Business”
Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 151 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting directly from the subterranean depths of Vomitorium South in Grand Rapids, Michigan, your hosts, Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe, return to the microphones for another thrilling journey into Greco-Roman civilization.
Basking in the balmy, beautiful sunshine of a day that Dave meticulously rates as an 8.2 out of 10, the episode kicks off with a high-brow literary parody. Dave shares a nostalgic reflection on his childhood farm, seamlessly morphing his story into a dramatic retelling of the lives of two barn cats named Midnight and Muffin. Capturing the bombastic, serialized prose of Charles Dickens—an author Dave notes was notoriously paid by the word—he recounts his feline history with familiar grandiosity: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness”. The hosts joke that this verbose style stands in stark contrast to the starved, lean prose of modernists like Ernest Hemingway, culminating in the ultimate pun: it was a “tale of two kitties”.
Opening the mailbag, Dave delivers an enthusiastic shout-out to Reverend Rob Berhorst, a theology student who recently completed Dave’s course on the French theologian Theodore Beza. Berhorst signs off his correspondence with the acronym “TCB” (Taking Care of Business). This quick postscript launches Dave and Jeff into a fun detour regarding the garish majesty of Elvis Presley’s grave in Memphis, Tennessee, with Jeff noting that a sovereign like the King of Rock and Roll requires a resting place that perfectly matches his famously extravagant lifestyle.
Before diving into the main topic, Dave issues a brief corrigendum to correct the historical record. In a previous episode detailing the milieu of early Christian apologetics, Dave mistakenly attributed the authorship of the text Contra Celsum to Justin Martyr. He sheepishly clarifies that the true author was Origen of Alexandria, whereas Justin Martyr famously penned the Contra Tryphonem.
The Oracular Boom and the Second Sophistic
The primary academic focus of Episode 151 resumes Jeff and Dave’s deep dive into the cynical, satirical writings of the ancient Greek historian Lucian of Samosata, specifically focusing on his hilarious text Alexander the False Prophet.
To set the historical stage, Jeff pulls an opening quote from Polymnia Athanassiadi’s 1992 article regarding the shifting authority of pagan oracles. By the early second century AD, the famous biographer Plutarch genuinely believed that the supernatural well had run completely dry. Dave marvels at Plutarch’s metaphor, noting that the ancient historian compared the prophetic current to the exhausted silver mines of Attica, assuming the divine source of knowledge had simply been tapped out.
However, as Jeff explains, Plutarch spoke far too soon. The second century actually ushered in an extraordinary “Indian summer” for Greek oracles. Across Asia Minor, dilapidated shrines were rebuilt, and divine prophecy experienced a massive, highly lucrative resurgence.
Jeff points out that this historical era perfectly aligns with the “Second Sophistic,” a period stretching roughly from the reign of Nero to the fracturing of the Roman Empire. Unlike the rigid, truth-seeking philosophy of Plato’s Academy, the Second Sophistic prized highly performative, public displays of erudition and rhetorical playfulness. Success during this era required dazzling an audience with sheer oratorical skill.
Dave draws a compelling modern parallel to illustrate this cultural shift. He argues that today’s digital landscape frequently rewards pure performance over actual substance, effectively creating a “Third Sophistic”. Dave notes that YouTube personalities frequently amass millions of views not by offering profound educational value, but by executing absurd stunts—like filming exactly how long a disposable lighter will burn before running out of fuel. Jeff completely agrees, adding that just as ancient audiences flocked to charismatic speakers offering cheap thrills, modern society remains endlessly captivated by performative distraction.
The Making of a Charlatan
In this unique environment of resurgent mysticism and performative rhetoric, Jeff introduces the grifter Alexander, who found his perfect opportunity to strike it rich.
As Jeff details, Alexander did not spontaneously invent his fraudulent techniques. He initially apprenticed under a traveling quack who followed the teachings of Apollonius of Tyana, learning the gritty, deceptive trade of a wandering snake-oil salesman. Following his master’s death, Alexander partnered with another charismatic huckster named Cocconas. Recognizing the immense profitability of religious fervor, the duo decided to construct their very own transportable cult.
Their scheme required a compelling prop. While traveling through Macedonia—a region boasting a rich mythological history connecting massive serpents to divine figures, such as Alexander the Great’s mother—the fraudsters purchased a fully grown, remarkably docile python.
Armed with their new reptilian centerpiece, the partners debated where to launch their franchise. While Cocconas preferred the city of Chalcedon, Jeff notes that Alexander correctly identified the town of Abonoteichos in Paphlagonia as the ultimate goldmine. Dave laughs as Jeff explains that the locals of Paphlagonia offered the perfect combination for any aspiring cult leader: they were incredibly wealthy and shockingly gullible.
Bronze Tablets, Soapwort, and the Goose Egg
To successfully establish his divine authority in Abonoteichos, Alexander masterfully manipulated the local populace through a series of staged miracles.
First, Jeff explains that Alexander secretly buried several inscribed bronze tablets in the earth, claiming they contained ancient prophecies from the Sibyl. He subsequently “discovered” these artifacts, translating their message to announce that Asclepius, the god of medicine, was migrating directly to their town. Dave likens this convenient archaeological “discovery” to cynical modern interpretations of Heinrich Schliemann finding the Mask of Agamemnon, or even the foundational events of Mormonism in upstate New York.
When Alexander finally made his grand entrance into the region, he ensured his visual presentation was utterly captivating. Jeff reads from Lucian’s text, noting that Alexander wore his hair in long, flowing ringlets, donned a purple-and-white tunic, and carried a curved falchion sword to mimic the ancient hero Perseus. To convince the crowds that he was genuinely possessed by the divine spirit, Alexander secretly chewed the root of the soapwort plant. Dave chuckles at the sheer audacity of the trick, as the chemical reaction caused the false prophet to foam profusely at the mouth, terrifying the local citizens who interpreted the rabid display as a genuine supernatural manifestation.
The climax of the grift required stunning theatricality. Jeff describes how Alexander hollowed out a large goose egg, carefully placed a tiny, newborn snake inside, and buried it in the mud near the foundation of a newly constructed temple. The next morning, wearing absolutely nothing but a shiny golden loincloth, he dramatically sprinted into the bustling marketplace. He frantically dug through the mud, produced the hidden egg, and cracked it open. As the tiny snake slithered out, the crowd erupted into absolute hysteria, completely convinced they had just witnessed the miraculous rebirth of Asclepius.
The Puppet Snake and the Oracular Fortune
A few days later, Alexander retreated into a dimly lit, shadowy room and produced the massive, fully grown python he had purchased back in Macedonia. Jeff explains that Alexander audaciously claimed the tiny snake from the egg had miraculously grown to a monstrous size in a matter of hours.
To complete the illusion, Jeff highlights Lucian’s most bizarre detail: Alexander concealed the python’s actual head under his cloak and attached a custom-made linen puppet head to the creature’s body. This terrifying marionette was painted to look vaguely human and featured a black, forked tongue that darted in and out, cleverly controlled by nearly invisible horsehairs.
With the terrifying “snake god” Glycon officially established, the money began pouring in. Desperate patrons arrived carrying their most pressing questions tightly sealed in wax or lead. Dave marvels at Alexander’s ingenuity, as the charlatan developed a method for secretly popping these seals open, reading the inquiries, and seamlessly resealing them. When he handed the unbroken scrolls back to the petitioners alongside an ambiguous, generalized prophecy, the citizens were utterly astounded by his apparent omniscience.
This highly orchestrated fraud proved lucrative. Jeff relays Lucian’s claim that in his very first year of operation, Alexander raked in between 70,000 and 80,000 drachmas. Jeff uses a bit of back-of-the-napkin math to estimate this haul translates to roughly twelve to fifteen million dollars in contemporary terms. For Lucian, this absurd tale serves as a cynical, biting indictment of human nature; a fool and his money are effortlessly parted when confronted by performative mysticism.
Sponsors: Fueling the Classical Renaissance
Before sharing the parting shot, Dave and Jeff take a moment to thank the phenomenal sponsors keeping the bunker operational.
- Ratio Coffee: For a truly transcendent morning brew, Jeff and Dave urge listeners to abandon those cheap, squirty plastic machines utilizing wasteful, throwaway pods. Entrepreneur Mark Hellweg designed the gorgeous Ratio 8 and Ratio 6 machines to execute a perfect automated pour-over. Dave also enthusiastically announces the upcoming launch of the highly agile Ratio 4, which brews half-batches flawlessly and features a convenient removable water tank. Visit ratiocoffee.com/adnavseam and enter the promo code ANCOA8 for 15% off the entire order.
- Hackett Publishing: Celebrating 53 years of publishing excellence out of Indianapolis and Cambridge, Hackett produces highly accessible, erudite translations. Dave emphasizes that students exhausted by the exorbitant prices of modern STEM textbooks should pivot to Hackett’s affordable, beautifully designed catalog covering Greco-Roman studies, Asian philosophy, and beyond. Build a personal library at hackettpublishing.com and use the code AN2024 to receive 20% off plus free shipping.
- LatinPerDiem: To dive deeper into the classical texts that inspired these incredible stories, Dave encourages listeners to pursue rigorous language study. By visiting latinperdiem.com, dedicated students can master the Latin language entirely from the ground up utilizing Hans Ørberg’s renowned Lingua Latina Per Se Illustrata curriculum, smoothly transitioning from neophyte to erudite.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
To officially close out Episode 151, Jeff delivers a neurotic Gustatory Parting Shot courtesy of the legendary comedian Larry David.
Playing a highly exaggerated version of himself on the hit show Curb Your Enthusiasm, David offers this perfectly cynical assessment of a popular stone fruit:
“Can I tell you something about apricots? One in 30 is a good one. It’s such a low percentage fruit.”
A special thanks goes out to Mishka the sound engineer for her consistently flawless editing, and to Scott Van Zen and Ken Tamplin for providing the blistering, incongruous guitar riffs that bookend the academic lectures. Check your fruit carefully, beware of golden loincloths, and keep taking in the classics. Valete!
