Oracle rose sharply, a lone oak weathering the storm, gaining almost ten percent. It’s a peculiar thing, this market. A single surge can almost erase a week of hardship. Merck & Co, on the other hand, saw money drift away, a slow leak in a failing dam. On the Nasdaq, Palantir Technologies continued its climb, and Robinhood Markets rallied ahead of its earnings report – a hopeful sign, perhaps, for those who cast their lot with the new ventures.
Our chaps, Rick Munarriz and Matt Frankel – seasoned observers of the corporate landscape, both – have been having a little chat about whether Disney is adequately bracing itself for this latest onslaught. One hopes they’ve had a stiff gin before commencing, it’s the only way to endure such discussions. Frankly, it’s all a bit vulgar, this striving for amusement. But, as an investor, one must remain… vigilant.
The audience, in the form of trading volume, swelled to a remarkable 55.2 million shares—a veritable throng compared to the usual modest gathering of 16.3 million. Such enthusiasm, one might think, would indicate admiration. Alas, it appears to be a panicked rush for the exits, a desperate attempt to salvage what little remains. It is a curious thing, the public’s affection for a failing enterprise.
Is this a reason to panic and sell everything? Nah. But it is a reason to ask, “Is this still the rocket ship everyone thought it was, or is it more of a… moderately fast gondola?” We’ll investigate. And I promise, no interpretive dance.
Super Micro Computer (SMCI 2.47%), a name now frequently upon the lips of those engaged in speculative ventures, has lately enjoyed a most remarkable ascent. The demand for its servers, fueled by the prevailing enthusiasm for all things related to Artificial Intelligence, has been, to say the least, considerable. The company’s recent reports confirm this prosperity, displaying a growth in sales which, at first glance, appears most gratifying. Yet, it is a matter of some concern that, despite these favourable indications, a hasty investment would be attended with a degree of risk.
Both VYM and VIG, it is claimed, track indices—arbitrary lines drawn across the chaotic landscape of the market, intended to impose order where none naturally exists. VYM, with its emphasis on immediate yield (currently 2.3%), appeals to those who seek the illusion of present gain. VIG, conversely, favors companies with a history of dividend growth, a lineage of increasing returns—a comforting, yet ultimately unsubstantiated, narrative of progress. The expense ratio of 0.04% for both is, of course, a negligible detail in the grand calculus of risk, akin to counting the grains of sand in the desert.
Palantir… it’s software. Okay. Fine. But software is just…air. It’s ones and zeros. You’re paying for someone to not have bugs, which, let’s be real, is a low bar. And they started with the government? That’s immediately suspicious. Everything with the government is a mess. They can’t even run the DMV efficiently, and now they’re building AI? I don’t like where this is going.
On-chain data, ETF flows, and market structure signals are pointing in opposite directions. It’s like a reality show where no one knows who’s going home. Is Bitcoin gearing up for another ride to the top, or is it packing its bags for a downward journey? Stay tuned!
The financial weight of this increase is not insignificant. The position, valued at $16.2 million as of December 31st, represents a $9.4 million gain in value since the quarter’s end. However, to view this solely through the lens of monetary gain would be to miss the subtle narrative at play. Axalta, comprising 1.2% of Arnhold’s reportable assets under management (AUM), remains outside the firm’s top five holdings, a fact that speaks volumes. It is a deliberate choice, a calculated weighting, suggesting a belief in the company’s potential, rather than an all-in commitment.
The company, for those blissfully unaware, peddles telehealth consultations and prescriptions. They were, until recently, making a rather aggressive play for the weight-loss market with a compounded version of semaglutide – the active ingredient in Ozempic and Wegovy. The stock jumped when they announced a cheaper pill, a move that felt less like innovation and more like a dare. “Forty-nine dollars a month!” the press releases practically shouted. “Stick it to Big Pharma!” It reminded me of a neighbor who started a competing landscaping business using a slightly different shade of mulch.
