You’ve got the big players, Orbital Reef, backed by Bezos, which is fine, whatever. More money than they know what to do with. Then there’s Starlab, which is apparently the “biggest, best-funded” team. Like that actually means something. It just means more meetings. More committees. And you know there’s some intern somewhere compiling a PowerPoint presentation about “synergy.” It’s enough to make you want to just stay home.
Now, sensible investors – those who haven’t yet been abducted by rogue algorithms – understand that a falling price doesn’t necessarily equate to a bad investment. It simply means someone, somewhere, has decided the future is less hydrogen-powered than previously anticipated. Let’s, therefore, wade through the arguments, shall we? It’s a bit like sorting through a box of Schrödinger’s cats – until you open it, you have no idea if it’s a potentially lucrative investment or a feline existential crisis.
Ah, the prediction markets! Those whimsical harbingers of public sentiment, now brimming with enthusiasm for legislation pertaining to crypto. Polymarket, that oracle of our times, displays a burgeoning confidence that this noble act will indeed be inscribed into the legal tome by the year 2026.
Approximately eighty percent of Micron’s revenue derives from DRAM, that ephemeral realm of short-term memory, so vital to the swift calculations of modern life. The remainder flows from NAND, the more steadfast keeper of long-term storage. It is a division of labor mirroring, perhaps, the human condition itself – a constant interplay between the transient and the lasting.
It is, therefore, something of a surprise to find that Laffont recently divested entirely from CoreWeave. This company, a purveyor of computational capacity for artificial intelligence applications, has enjoyed a period of rapid expansion, fueled by the current enthusiasm for all things ‘AI’. The stock price, naturally, reflected this. Yet, Laffont chose to take profits. A prudent move, perhaps, or a signal of deeper reservations. It is difficult to say with certainty, and the pronouncements of fund managers are rarely exercises in honest disclosure.
They’re bragging about Oracle Cloud Infrastructure (OCI) growing 66% year over year. Sixty-six percent! Sounds impressive, right? Until you realize it’s fueled by IOUs from companies that are burning cash faster than a Tesla on Ludicrous mode. They’ve got this backlog, see? Over $523 BILLION. A number so large it’s practically obscene. And who’s writing these checks? Meta, Nvidia, and – brace yourselves – OpenAI. OpenAI! The black hole of venture capital. They’re promising the moon, but they can barely afford the rocket fuel.
Federal Realty Investment Trust, a name whispered with a certain respect amongst those who track these things, distinguishes itself not through spectacular leaps, but through consistent, almost stubborn, adherence to a single principle: the reliable distribution of income. Fifty-eight consecutive years of increased dividends – a feat bordering on the legendary – mark it as a ‘Dividend King,’ a title earned not through conquest, but through patient accumulation. It stands alone amongst its peers, a solitary figure in a field of aspirants.
The yield, around 6%, is…acceptable. Not a spectacular figure to set the heart racing, but enough to warrant attention. I don’t, at present, rely on the distribution. One shouldn’t, really. It feels…precarious, to build a life on such things. Instead, I reinvest. A small act of faith, perhaps, in a world where faith is a dwindling commodity. With a yield of this magnitude, even a modest appreciation in the unit price offers a reasonable return. Though one shouldn’t expect miracles.
It was the scent of new growth, certainly. Investors, like migrating birds, had flocked to the territories of innovation – artificial intelligence, the whispers of quantum possibility, and the promise, or perhaps the illusion, of weight loss miracles. Nvidia, IonQ, Eli Lilly – these names became incantations, each share a seed planted in the fertile ground of speculation. The market, it seemed, had decided to believe in alchemy.
Indeed, the figures themselves are quite dazzling. The Dow Jones, that venerable index of commerce, has ascended with a vigor that might shame a nimble courtier. The S&P 500, and the Nasdaq Composite, fueled by the spirit of innovation (or perhaps, mere speculation), have followed suit, soaring to heights that would make Icarus blush. One might almost believe that fortune favors this particular administration, were it not for the inconvenient truth that markets, like men, are prone to fits of fancy and moments of regrettable excess.