H.L. Mencken might have termed Mr. Lif's latest batch of bitter conspiracism as such: "He ascribes all his failure to get on in the world, all of his congenital incapacity and damfoolishness, to the machinations of werewolves assembled in Wall Street, or some other such den of infamy."
Reminds us of: A strained I Phantom | Aesop Rock | Edan