As of February 13, 2026, this move brought their net position change to $2.84 million. Which, let’s be real, is probably what my dry cleaner charges me for a year. Crocs now represents a modest 0.36% of Blueshift’s portfolio. Basically, pocket change. Although, in the world of high finance, 0.36% could buy you a really nice stapler.
Investors, naturally, are twitching. They want a piece of the action, a little slice of the digital future. It’s understandable. Everyone wants to feel like they’re on the right side of history, even if history is just a series of increasingly efficient ways to sell things.
Health-ISAC says cyberattacks jumped 55% in one sector alone. FIFTY-FIVE PERCENT! That’s not a surge, that’s a goddamn tsunami of malicious code. But that’s just the surface. The real horror? Quantum computing. A theoretical beast capable of cracking encryption like a walnut. They’re building these things, you know. In labs, in bunkers, probably fueled by black coffee and existential dread. And when it arrives… well, let’s just say your online banking password will be about as effective as a paper shield against a nuclear blast.
The transaction, revealed in a document most prosaic (an SEC filing, naturally), details the purchase of 205,627 shares. One imagines the principals at Bragg huddled around a table, poring over charts and muttering incantations to the gods of compound interest. The value of this holding, we are told, has swelled by $8.39 million, a testament not to any particular brilliance on their part, but to the simple fact that numbers, when left unattended, have a habit of increasing.
The question, then, is not whether to participate in this decline, but to what degree one is already irrevocably entangled within its bureaucratic embrace. Let us attempt, with the understanding that such attempts are often merely elaborate exercises in self-deception, to discern the underlying logic.
And that brings us to Chewy. Yes, that Chewy. The one that sends boxes of kibble and squeaky toys to your doorstep with alarming regularity. It’s an e-commerce provider for pet supplies, which, when you think about it, is a remarkably robust business model. People are remarkably devoted to their pets, and remarkably willing to spend money on them. It’s a devotion that, frankly, puts most human relationships to shame.
Apparently, this Bragg group decided UGI needed a little more love. Increased their stake. By a lot. And it cost them a cool $7.36 million. Based on, get this, the “mean unadjusted close price.” Mean unadjusted! What does that even mean? Is it adjusted for inflation? For the sheer annoyance of calculating it? They now have 1,316,362 shares. And the value of that position is up $12.40 million. Twelve. Point. Forty. Million. It’s just… ostentatious. Like they’re trying to impress someone. Who, I ask you?
The aforementioned firm, it appears, has elected to refine its portfolio, diminishing its stake in InterDigital. The reduction, whilst not of a magnitude to cause undue alarm, represents a diminution of some $15.15 million in the quarter-end valuation, a consequence both of the shares parted with and the fluctuations of the market itself. One cannot but speculate on the reasoning behind such a decision; whether a simple rebalancing of assets, or a more discerning assessment of future prospects.
Mr. Dalio proposes a “capital war.” Not with cannons and cavalry, mind you, but with money itself. A far more subtle, and infinitely more profitable, form of conflict. Sanctions, asset freezes, capital controls – these are the weapons of choice in this peculiar contest. It’s a bit like a game of chess, only the pieces are billions of dollars and the board is the global economy. The Americans and the Chinese, it seems, are particularly fond of this game. Each side attempting to outmaneuver the other, all while pretending it’s simply a matter of “national security.” The naiveté is almost touching.
Energy Transfer (ET +2.68%). They’re offering a 7.4% yield. It sounds… generous. Almost suspiciously so. Like a charming stranger offering you a drink you know you shouldn’t accept. But hey, who am I to judge? They’ve bumped up their distribution by a little over 3% year-over-year, to $1.34 annually. It’s covered – 1.7 times, they claim – by their distributable cash flow. Which, let’s be honest, is industry jargon for ‘we’re currently able to juggle the numbers without things immediately collapsing.’ They’ve also improved their balance sheet, which is… good. It’s always good to not be actively drowning in debt. And they boast the highest percentage of ‘take-or-pay’ contracts in their history. Translation: people are obligated to pay them, even if they don’t particularly want to. Smart. Ruthless. I approve.