The filing shows Icahn scooped up 30,467,595 shares in the fourth quarter. That brings his total holding to a cool 549,400,539 shares. Which, quick math, is a lot of shares. The value of the stake actually decreased by $221.44 million, which is corporate-speak for “we’re not entirely sure what’s happening.”
By the close of tradin’, the price had gone and done climbed higher than a Mississippi steamboat smokestack. A right impressive sight, I’ll grant you, but let’s not mistake motion for progress. Seems these days, a company can promise the moon and folks will hand over their hard-earned dollars before askin’ if there’s actually a rocket built.
The prevailing narrative—that Bitcoin is a sealed vault, impervious to time—requires a subtle correction. The protocol, it appears, is not carved in granite, but rather assembled from a series of contingent arrangements, susceptible to alteration should the circumstances demand it. And a circumstance, spectral yet insistent, is indeed approaching.
Federal banking regulators, ever the diligent architects of confusion, have embarked on a noble quest to govern digital assets. On Feb. 25, the OCC issued a notice of proposed rulemaking-a document so dense it could double as a doorstop-to implement the Guiding and Establishing National Innovation for U.S. Stablecoins (GENIUS) Act. This masterpiece of legislation outlines standards for payment stablecoin issuance and related activities, all while ensuring no one actually understands what they just read.
Recently, however, the stock has taken a bit of a tumble. About 26% down from its peak, which, in the grand scheme of things, is merely a polite correction. A gentle reminder that even empires, built on lines of code and quarterly earnings reports, are subject to the whims of… well, everything. Sell-offs of this magnitude are unusual for Microsoft, yes. But then, so is finding a genuinely honest accountant.1
The enterprise software specialist, a name that sounds as dry as parchment, announced two new offerings, each a small universe of code and intention. They called it the Autonomous Workforce, a framework of “AI specialists” – a phrase that evokes images of tiny, tireless automatons – capable of executing tasks with an authority that borders on the spectral. The intention, they said, was to free humans for more “strategic problem solving” and “personalized service,” but one couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t also a subtle attempt to outsource the very soul of labor to the machines. It was a bold move, a gamble with the currency of time and attention, and the market, ever fickle, responded with a surge of optimism, pushing the stock price almost 5% higher.
It appears Micron has stumbled, quite fortuitously, into the artificial intelligence arena. Their dynamic random-access memory (DRAM) and NAND flash memory, bless their little silicon hearts, are proving rather essential to these newfangled AI accelerators. From graphics cards to central processing units – a veritable bonanza, wouldn’t you say?
The divestiture, a transaction valued at approximately $74.50 million, wasn’t announced with trumpets or pronouncements, but rather materialized as a subtle shift in the constellations of ownership. It was a withdrawal, a pulling back of funds, as if sensing a change in the atmospheric pressure, a premonition of winds shifting direction. The numbers, of course, were precise – the shares unloaded, the value diminished – but they failed to capture the essence of the gesture, the quiet deliberation behind the act of letting go.
A favourable report concerning their earnings in February did, indeed, occasion a momentary enthusiasm, though it proved, as is so often the case, a fleeting joy. The subsequent session witnessed a regrettable decline, a reminder that even the most promising ventures are subject to the whims of the market. However, a recovery has since been effected, and the stock now stands at an increase of approximately twenty-two percent from the year’s beginning, a circumstance which invites a closer inspection.
The filing, dated February 17th, confirms the purchase. A bold stroke, considering Navan’s recent performance. The shares, having floated some months ago at $25, currently trade at a shade over $10. A decline of sixty per cent. The sort of figure that usually precipitates a rout, or at least a particularly gloomy luncheon. That Greenoaks should venture in at this juncture suggests either a remarkable degree of conviction, or a lamentable lack of memory.