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So, you’ve got the guys who get the oil and gas – the “upstream” people. And then you’ve got the guys who turn it into, I don’t know, plastic sporks – the “downstream” people. And in the middle? These midstream guys. Just… sitting there. Charging a fee. It’s the ultimate in taking a cut. Like a toll booth operator for the energy industry. But here’s the thing – people still need energy. Even if the price of oil goes down, the stuff still has to move. So, they’re somewhat protected. It’s not brilliant, it’s just… not completely stupid. Which, frankly, is a low bar these days.

Next year? Fifty-five billion. Numbers like that…they lose meaning, don’t they? Still, someone has to build the machines that do the thinking. Or, at least, the pretending. And a few companies are doing very well indeed. Let’s look at two of them.

Having, with characteristic tardiness, missed the earlier ascensions of IonQ (IONQ 3.68%), I ventured a purchase of its shares, now languishing at more than half their former altitude. A speculative gamble, certainly, but one predicated on a careful, if admittedly imperfect, assessment of the landscape. Is it the ne plus ultra of quantum investments? A question demanding a degree of circumspection often absent in these frenzied times.

ASML’s uniqueness lies not in innovation, precisely, but in the absence of rivals. They are the sole purveyor of extreme ultraviolet (EUV) lithography machines. These machines, immense and costly – each one resembling a mobile fortress and demanding a price approaching half a billion units of currency – are, apparently, indispensable. Indispensable not because of any inherent brilliance of design, but because the entire industry has, through a series of largely undocumented agreements and tacit understandings, become reliant upon them. The logic of it escapes easy scrutiny.

Everyone’s fixated on the hype, the AI gold rush. I prefer to think of it as a very expensive game of digital solitaire, and Nvidia, for now, is holding all the aces. They’re predicting growth, of course. Everyone predicts growth. It’s practically a contractual obligation for any publicly traded company. But I’m looking at 2026, and I suspect they’ll surpass the consensus revenue estimates of $323.3 billion. Not because of some revolutionary breakthrough, but because the alternative – everyone suddenly deciding they don’t need increasingly complex algorithms to suggest things they already want to buy – seems…unlikely.

The conglomerate, a behemoth forged in the fires of patient accumulation, now bore the subtle imprint of a new hand. Greg Abel, the chosen successor, walked the halls, but the spirit of Buffett lingered, woven into the very fabric of the portfolio. A quarter of that vast wealth rested within the often-overlooked realm of finance, a silent testament to the old man’s understanding of risk and reward. It was there, amidst the intricate web of loans and investments, that the seeds of future growth, or decline, were sown. And two names, seemingly small in the grand scheme, held a particular allure: Jefferies Financial and Ally Financial. They were not the grand cathedrals of commerce, but rather, the humble chapels, quietly gathering their strength.

Units of Cryptocurrency Lost: 12. Hours Spent Watching Charts: 9. Number of Panicked Texts to Friends: 24. (Mostly about the crypto, to be fair.) But I digress. Lemonade launched a new car insurance plan. A very specific car insurance plan. It rewards people for letting their Teslas drive themselves. It’s…ambitious. And possibly insane. But it got the stock moving, so who am I to judge?

First, this short-seller comes along. CapitalWatch, or whatever they’re called. Accusing them of…get this…skirting anti-money-laundering controls. Like every other company isn’t dancing on the edge of something questionable. They call it “improprieties.” Improprieties! It’s a strong word. And AppLovin pushes back, naturally. Calls it “false, misleading, and nonsensical.” Which, let’s be honest, is exactly what every company says when they’re caught doing something they shouldn’t. It’s the corporate equivalent of “I didn’t do it!”

Palantir Technologies, however, is a different proposition altogether. It is not merely a purveyor of algorithms, but a constructor of order from chaos. One detects a certain governmental fondness for the firm, which is, in these anxious times, hardly surprising. Governments, after all, have always had a weakness for systems that promise to tell them what they already suspect, but with a veneer of scientific respectability.