you know, when people who are seeing their investments becoming almost value-less and are feeling bad about it, as they should, yet also feel the need to do nothing but spread ill will about other peoples' investments that are doing well (and then couch that ill will in statements like "I am only seeking the truth" and other such blarney) it reminds me of a scene from "the Count of Monte Cristo" that explores the need of humans to wish ill will on others who are going to live when they themselves are condemned. See if you guys can see the relevance here too:

"A pardon for Peppino, called
Rocca Priori," said the principal friar. And he passed the
paper to the officer commanding the carbineers, who read and
returned it to him.

"For Peppino!" cried Andrea, who seemed roused from the
torpor in which he had been plunged. "Why for him and not
for me? We ought to die together. I was promised he should
die with me. You have no right to put me to death alone. I
will not die alone -- I will not!" And he broke from the
priests struggling and raving like a wild beast, and
striving desperately to break the cords that bound his
hands. The executioner made a sign, and his two assistants
leaped from the scaffold and seized him. "What is going on?"
asked Franz of the count; for, as all the talk was in the
Roman dialect, he had not perfectly understood it. "Do you
not see?" returned the count, "that this human creature who
is about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does not
perish with him? and, were he able, he would rather tear him
to pieces with his teeth and nails than let him enjoy the
life he himself is about to be deprived of. Oh, man, man --
race of crocodiles," cried the count, extending his clinched
hands towards the crowd, "how well do I recognize you there,
and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!"
Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on
the ground, and he kept exclaiming, "He ought to die! -- he
shall die! -- I will not die alone!"

"Look, look," cried the count. seizing the young men's hands
-- "look, for on my soul it is curious. Here is a man who
had resigned himself to his fate, who was going to the
scaffold to die -- like a coward, it is true, but he was
about to die without resistance. Do you know what gave him
strength? -- do you know what consoled him? It was, that
another partook of his punishment -- that another partook of
his anguish -- that another was to die before him. Lead two
sheep to the butcher's, two oxen to the slaughterhouse, and
make one of them understand that his companion will not die;
the sheep will bleat for pleasure, the ox will bellow with
joy. But man -- man, whom God created in his own image --
man, upon whom God has laid his first, his sole commandment,
to love his neighbor -- man, to whom God has given a voice
to express his thoughts -- what is his first cry when he
hears his fellow-man is saved? A blasphemy. Honor to man,
this masterpiece of nature, this king of the creation!" And
the count burst into a laugh; a terrible laugh, that showed
he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh."

Excerpted from The Count of Monte Cristo - Chapter 35