Lip-Bu Tan, the new man at the helm, promised a streamlining, a return to a craft built on engineering, a mending of the balance sheet. Years of investment in building foundries had left the company lean, bordering on brittle. It was a long game he proposed, a patient tending of the roots, and for a time, the stock climbed, more than doubling from its low. But the land remembers everything, and the harvest is never guaranteed.
Peloton, on the other hand, presents a more… contemporary tragedy. Once lauded as a disruptor of the at-home fitness market, it now serves as a cautionary tale of hype and overextension. The stock has lost a staggering 96% of its value over the same five-year period. One imagines the board meetings are conducted in a state of increasingly refined despair.
Now, the inevitable question arises: can this momentum be sustained? The market, like a spoiled child, rarely appreciates repetition. Investors, ever hopeful, cling to the notion that past performance guarantees future results. A comforting delusion, easily dispelled by a single unfavorable earnings report. But let us examine the candidates, not as mere tickers on a screen, but as players in a rather absurd drama.
The notion that these ‘chips’ and ‘models’ represent a revolution is, predictably, overstated. Every technological advance is, at its core, a rearrangement of existing principles. The true novelty lies not in the invention itself, but in the scale of its potential for both creation and, inevitably, obsolescence. The market, a perpetual motion machine fueled by hope and fear, rewards those who can navigate this paradox. Those who merely participate are, in the long run, consumed by it.
The problem, as always, is ‘hallucinations’. Not the fun kind with sparkly unicorns, but the kind where the AI just… makes things up. With a chatbot, you can usually spot the error. You think, “Hmm, that doesn’t sound quite right,” and Google it. But if this AI is running around making decisions for a business, well, that’s slightly more problematic. It’s like letting a toddler loose in a china shop, except the china shop is your profit margin. And there are multiple toddlers, from multiple vendors, all running around at once. It’s chaos, pure chaos.
Despite this recent disquiet, the stock, it is noted, remains elevated—seventy percent higher than it was twelve months prior. A testament, not to enduring value, but to the fleeting nature of speculative enthusiasm. The question, then, is not merely whether to ‘buy’ this stock, but whether to acknowledge the precariousness of a prosperity built on shifting sands.
As we approach 2026, with the American consumer’s pocket feeling a trifle lighter and the job market exhibiting a hint of the slows, it strikes me as a rather opportune moment to give Costco a closer look. A bit of defensive positioning, you understand, is always the thing when the economic clouds begin to gather.
The company, having previously devoted itself to the extraction of digital currency – a pursuit of dubious long-term viability – has pivoted, with admirable agility, to the supply of power for AI data centres. They have secured agreements with certain leading technology firms, a circumstance which, while not guaranteeing success, does offer a temporary respite from the usual anxieties of the market.
He thinks it’ll be worth $600 in a year. A 28% profit, he says. Assuming the world doesn’t end, of course. Or that we all suddenly decide money is worthless. Which, honestly, wouldn’t be the worst thing.
The company, a titan of the attention economy, continues to generate robust profits, a relentless flow of revenue. Yet, this prosperity feels… precarious. The valuation, a price-to-earnings ratio hovering in the low twenties, suggests a discounting, a collective skepticism. It is as if the market, weary of illusions, anticipates a reckoning. The question is not whether Meta can grow, but at what cost, and for whose benefit.