They call it a “sell-off.” I call it a cleansing. A purging of the superficial. The world clamors for instant gratification, for the next fleeting trend. They demand that Microsoft conjure its own generative AI, to mimic the gaudy displays of others. But Microsoft, bless its pragmatic soul, has chosen a different path. A path of quiet investment, of strategic alignment. It does not need to be the loudest voice; it prefers to be the most enduring.
See, all this Artificial Intelligence—this digital god we’re building—it doesn’t run on hot air. It needs RAM. It needs DRAM. Mountains of the stuff. It’s a ravenous beast, demanding to be fed a constant stream of data, a digital buffet of ones and zeros. And right now? We’re staring down the barrel of a memory shortage. A genuine, capital-S Shortage. Intel’s Lip-Bu Tan, a man who usually speaks in carefully calibrated corporate jargon, is practically screaming about it. He doesn’t think it eases until 2028. 2028! That’s an eternity in this business. Prices are going to surge. Fifty percent, they say. FIFTY PERCENT! That’s enough to make a man reconsider his life choices.
From the year 2022 to 2025, the company reported revenues ascending from $1.4 billion to $4.5 billion – a circumstance which, while impressive on the face of it, does not necessarily indicate a corresponding stability. The turning of a profit in 2024, and a subsequent increase in net income to $1.9 billion in 2025, are undoubtedly pleasing to those with a vested interest, but a prudent observer cannot help but inquire as to the enduring nature of such prosperity. Analysts, with a confidence that often exceeds justification, predict continued growth, estimating revenue and net income to increase by approximately 19% and 18% respectively between 2025 and 2027. Such projections, while comforting to some, appear to rest upon a rather delicate foundation.
The fund’s increased position, bringing their total MTN stake to $245.84 million (a 93.62 million dollar increase from the prior quarter), suggests a conviction that transcends the immediate, unfavorable conditions. This is not merely an investment; it is a declaration. A belief, almost theological in its nature, that the cyclical downturn is but a temporary distortion in a larger, more predictable pattern. The portfolio, as a whole, reveals a peculiar concentration. MTN constitutes 37% of reportable assets, overshadowing holdings in Hut 8 and Core Scientific – a structure reminiscent of a library where a single, obscure volume dominates the entire collection.
Now, a faint stirring. The air smells not of revolution, but of…correction. The “Magnificent Seven,” those gilded idols of the American market, cast long shadows, and shadows, as any magician knows, eventually consume the object they conceal. A rotation is underway, a subtle shifting of weight. Investors, those fickle creatures, are beginning to glance beyond the familiar shores, seeking value where it has long been dismissed as quaint or…foreign. It’s a bit like a man, weary of caviar, suddenly craving a simple loaf of rye. Not necessarily a sign of impending doom, but certainly a change in appetite.
Anyway, I’m trying to be rational. I’m trying to tell myself this is a temporary wobble, a blip in the radar. I’ve been reading (obsessively, let’s be honest) and trying to understand what’s actually going on. Here’s what I’ve managed to distill from the chaos, presented as a sort of… investor self-help list. Because clearly, I need it.
Oasis bought a lot of shares – 2,004,953, to be precise – of Hut 8 Corp. back in the last quarter of 2025. That brings their total holding to 2,307,683 shares, worth about $106 million. A lot of money. Enough to make you wonder what everyone’s hoping for. The net position value increased by $95.48 million. Numbers, numbers. They just keep coming.
The filings speak of a new position, a calculated risk. But let’s not mistake these numbers for charity. Oasis didn’t stumble into Core Scientific by accident. They saw something… or perhaps, they saw an opportunity to profit from the dreams of others. This 2.5% slice of their reportable assets isn’t a declaration of faith; it’s a carefully weighed gamble.
Geoffrey Kendrick, the self-proclaimed oracle of digital assets research at the bank, shared his revelation with the world, wrapped in a cloak of pessimism. “We expect further declines near-term,” he intoned, as if the crypto market was a stubborn mule refusing to budge. His words echoed through the financial halls, sending shivers down the spines of XRP enthusiasts like a cold wind on a winter morning.
One observes, however, a curious phenomenon amidst the prevailing gloom: a continued influx of assets to this digital platform. The public, it appears, remains stubbornly attached to its habit of entrusting its fortunes to a company whose very name evokes a charmingly naive altruism. One might suggest that hope springs eternal, even in the most thoroughly cultivated gardens of financial folly.