On a recent Thursday, our dear Bitcoin dallied around the $65,000 mark, continuing its dramatic descent-like a tragic hero in a playwright’s tale. Alas, the equity markets trembled at the sight, as shares of those companies foolish enough to dance with Bitcoin took a nosedive!
They’ve been “upgrading” Ethereum. That’s what they call it. Upgrading. It used to be slow and expensive. Now it’s…slightly less slow and slightly less expensive. They’re bragging about gas fees being down to fifteen cents. Fifteen cents! Like that’s a significant improvement in the grand scheme of things. I remember when a stamp cost more than that. And it actually did something.
Thus, the manufacturers of silicon, the custodians of data centers, and even those who harness the very currents of electricity find themselves beneficiaries of this digital land rush. Three entities, in particular, appear poised to reap the most substantial rewards. But let us not mistake profit for progress, nor abundance for genuine benefit. This is not a rising tide lifting all boats, but a concentrated flow enriching a select few while obscuring the true cost—the erosion of individual agency and the increasing opacity of the systems that govern our lives.
Oh, the frenzy of trading! On this fine Thursday, IBIT danced like a madman at a ball, engaging in more than 284 million trades according to the ever-reliable Nasdaq data. A lavish $10 billion-plus in notional value-that’s enough to make a financier swoon!
There’s a story in these numbers, a tale of forces unseen, of currents pulling at the foundations of this digital land. It’s a story worth understanding, if only to know whether to offer a hand, or simply turn away.
It began, as these things often do, with a man named Sam Walton. A fellow who, judging by the historical record, possessed a singular talent for convincing people they needed things they hadn’t previously considered. In 1970, he unleashed his creation upon the world, asking a mere $16.50 for a share in the unfolding spectacle. A pittance, really. Though, at the time, most sensible individuals were likely preoccupied with slightly more pressing concerns – like, say, avoiding the creeping dread of existence.
The air is thick with optimism, naturally. Mr. Musk, ever the theatrical visionary, speaks of robotaxis descending upon our streets with the swiftness of a summer storm. A fleet of automated chariots, whisking us away from the mundane realities of traffic and parking. It’s a seductive vision, isn’t it? One that conveniently overlooks the rather substantial technical hurdles and regulatory nightmares that lie ahead. But who are we to question the pronouncements of a modern-day Prometheus?
They speak of a manufacturing report, a momentary surge in activity, and the optimistic pronouncements of Old Dominion Freight Lines. But such external validations are mere distractions, whispers in the face of the fundamental uncertainties that plague us all. XPO’s own recent results—revenue up 5%, yield increasing even as tonnage declines—are, admittedly,…intriguing. A company managing to extract more value from less substance. Is this efficiency, or a subtle form of deception?
Three Signs the Washout Is Getting Real
Shares in the membership-based wholesale retailer have, defying gravity and common sense, risen about 15% this year. Investors, it seems, are beginning to appreciate a business that reliably sells stuff, regardless of whether the world is ending, starting, or simply having a particularly grumpy Tuesday. The combination of low prices, a membership fee (essentially a small annual tribute to the gods of bulk purchasing), and the relentless demand for everyday essentials – the stuff that keeps civilisation from collapsing into a heap of unpaid bills – is a potent brew. It’s the sort of business that thrives when everyone else is panicking about the price of digital sheep2.