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The historical performance of Bitcoin is, shall we say, remarkable. Over the past decade, it has, with a frequency that borders on the predictable, achieved returns that would make a stockbroker blush. In ten of the fourteen years since 2012, it outperformed every other asset class. Seven of those years saw triple-digit gains. A truly astonishing record, though one wonders if it isn’t simply a consequence of starting from a base so delightfully insignificant. From a mere ten dollars in 2011, it ascended to over $100,000, peaking at $126,000 in October 2025. A performance that, one suspects, has encouraged a degree of reckless optimism.

There are, naturally, a number of firms poised to benefit from all this spending. However, Nvidia (NVDA 2.21%) and Broadcom (AVGO 1.87%) stand out like a particularly well-dressed gentleman at a garden party. Both are purveyors of the computing equipment that forms the very backbone of these AI data centers. And with expenditure proceeding at its current rate, they are set for a period of robust expansion. A most agreeable prospect, wouldn’t you say?

Nvidia’s strength lies not simply in the fabrication of graphics processing units, but in a broader vision – a comprehensive approach to the demands of modern data centers. These GPUs, the engines of artificial intelligence, accelerate processes with a speed and efficiency that were once the stuff of dreams. The company’s dominance – holding over eighty percent of the market for AI accelerators – is not accidental. It is the result of a deliberate strategy, a ‘full-stack’ approach that encompasses not only hardware, but also the adjacent realms of software and networking.

The tale is familiar enough. Both Freddie and its sister organisation, Fannie Mae, found themselves in the government’s care during the regrettable unpleasantness of 2008. They busily purchased mortgages – some of a distinctly questionable character – bundled them into securities, and thus kept the whole rickety edifice of home financing from collapsing entirely. A noble effort, perhaps, but one that left them rather exposed when the inevitable reckoning arrived.

But forget all that for a second. The real problem isn’t the market…it’s the people supposedly managing it. Specifically, the Federal Reserve. You know, the institution entrusted with keeping everything from completely falling apart? It’s supposed to be simple. Full employment, stable prices. Easy, right? Apparently not.

The earnings, while undeniably robust, have not entirely quelled a certain disquiet amongst investors. The valuation, shall we say, remains… ambitious. There is a distinct apprehension that should the current AI infatuation prove to be merely a passing fancy – a bubble, if you will – Palantir might find itself rather exposed. The stock has, after all, performed a most impressive, if improbable, dance upwards – a gain of seventeen hundred percent in three years. This year, however, it has surrendered approximately a fifth of its value. A sobering correction, perhaps, or merely a prelude to further anxieties.

Amazon, like any large undertaking, is composed of segments. North America and its international operations, the visible face of the company, account for the bulk of sales – 82% of the $716.9 billion reported in 2025. They are, for the most part, functional. They generate revenue. They provide employment. But the true engine, the quiet heart of the machine, resides in Amazon Web Services (AWS). A business that, while not always remarked upon in the breathless pronouncements of market analysts, consistently delivers a disproportionate share of the profit – $45.6 billion, a respectable sum, even in these inflated times.

Turns out, they’re panicking. The S&P North American Technology Software Index, which sounds like something they invented to justify a quarterly newsletter, is down over 30%. It’s a bear market for software, apparently. Which feels…dramatic. Like the industry is suddenly having a midlife crisis, buying a motorcycle, and listening to a lot of Steppenwolf.

The S&P 500, they tell me, is up a ridiculous amount over the last three years. Eighty percent, apparently. Which is…fine. Except, lurking beneath the surface, are a couple of signals that remind me of that time I accidentally signed up for a competitive eating contest. Everything looked promising at first, but then the hot dogs started piling up, and I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. These aren’t flashing neon warnings, more like subtle shifts in the air pressure. Things are…tight.