Many years later, as the price of a single mango in the marketplace exceeded the monthly wages of a field worker, old Mateo remembered the promises whispered about energy stocks – how they would bloom like orchids in the desert, bearing fruit for generations. He’d dismissed it then, of course, preoccupied with the slow seep of dust into the cracks of his adobe walls and the mournful song of the wind. But the wind, like the market, is a fickle god, and even the most stubborn of men eventually listen to its murmurs. It was said that certain companies, rooted deep in the earth and fueled by the black blood of ancient seas, offered a peculiar form of solace – a steady drip of income in a world perpetually teetering on the brink of scarcity.
These were not, to be sure, companies of dreams or innovation. They were behemoths, monuments to a past age, content to extract and refine, to count and accumulate. Yet, in a world obsessed with the ephemeral and the fleeting, their very solidity possessed a strange appeal. The promise wasn’t of riches, but of a quiet, persistent income, a bulwark against the inevitable storms. Two such entities, ExxonMobil and Energy Transfer, had become the objects of a muted fascination, their fortunes intertwined with the insatiable hunger of a world demanding ever more energy.
The Shadow of ExxonMobil
ExxonMobil, a name that echoed with the weight of decades, was a leviathan draped in the guise of a corporation. It wasn’t merely an oil company; it was a geological force, a master of the subterranean world. For forty-three years, it had offered its shareholders a dividend, a ritual offering to appease the gods of the market. This wasn’t generosity, of course, but a calculated maneuver, a way to bind its followers, to ensure their continued allegiance. The company’s strength lay not in foresight, but in its ability to endure, to navigate the treacherous currents of global politics and economic upheaval.
Its recent discoveries in Guyana, the Stabroek block, were spoken of in hushed tones, a potential gusher of black gold that could fuel the company’s ambitions for years to come. The numbers, however, were deceptive. Return on capital employed, while respectable, was not a miracle, merely a testament to ruthless efficiency. The promise of lower break-even costs by 2027 and 2030 felt less like a triumph of engineering and more like a desperate attempt to stave off the inevitable decline. The company, like an aging patriarch, was clinging to its power, aware that its reign could not last forever.
The capital returned to shareholders through stock repurchases was not an act of benevolence, but a pragmatic attempt to prop up the share price, to maintain the illusion of strength. It was a game of smoke and mirrors, played with billions of dollars. For those seeking a sound business with a reliable dividend, ExxonMobil offered a semblance of security, a fragile haven in a world increasingly defined by uncertainty.
The Veins of Energy Transfer
Energy Transfer, unlike the monolithic ExxonMobil, was a network, a labyrinth of pipelines stretching across the continent like the veins of some colossal beast. It didn’t produce energy; it transported it, a middleman profiting from the flow of black gold and natural gas. The company’s appeal lay in the growing demand for natural gas, fueled by the insatiable hunger of data centers and utility providers.
The agreement with Oracle, to supply natural gas to its data centers, was less a partnership and more a symbiotic relationship, a desperate attempt to secure a future in a world rapidly transitioning to renewable energy. The promise of 900 million cubic feet per day felt less like a triumph and more like a temporary reprieve. The deal with Meta Platforms, to transport gas to its new data center, was merely a continuation of the same pattern, a desperate attempt to fill its pipelines and maintain its profits.
The fact that Energy Transfer operated as a master limited partnership (MLP), issuing Schedule K-1 forms instead of 1099s, was a minor inconvenience, a bureaucratic hurdle easily overcome. The 7.3% dividend yield, however, was a siren song, a tempting lure for investors seeking a quick profit. It was a gamble, of course, a bet on the continued demand for natural gas in a world increasingly aware of the environmental consequences of its actions. For those willing to take the risk, Energy Transfer offered a potential reward, a fleeting glimpse of prosperity in a world shrouded in uncertainty. But even the most lucrative dividends, Mateo knew, could not buy back the lost years, or silence the mournful song of the wind.
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2026-02-10 17:02