Unlike those past rallies where any random L1 news could ignite a short-lived spike (like finding out your ex is on a dating app), this time it feels different. Now, we’re talking about the real deal: what actually attracts capital. Spoiler alert: it’s not just a cute dog video. 🐶💸
A modest outlay of a thousand dollars will procure approximately six shares of Chevron, accompanied by a dividend yield of 4.2%. Rather a good show, that, considering the average energy stock is yielding a mere 3.3%, and the S&P 500 a positively paltry 1.1%. Chevron, you see, has a knack for weathering the cyclical storms of the energy market, and has been reliably increasing its dividend for over three decades. A record of which even the most exacting investor would approve.
In a most delightful proclamation upon the platform known as X (how very modern!), Santiment has taken it upon themselves to unveil the whimsical behaviors of those who hold the mighty Bitcoin. On one side, we have the formidable sharks and whales; on the other, the charmingly naive retail investors-those with wallets heavier than a feather! 🐠💰
The filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission, dated January 15th, confirms the complete divestment. No lingering shares remain, apparently. One suspects a degree of forward thinking, rather than panic. Though, of course, one can never be entirely certain with these things. A touch of ruthlessness is always admired, naturally.
The market, they claim, is efficient. A cold, calculating machine. BULLSHIT. It’s a goddamn casino, fueled by caffeine and delusion. Short-term thinking? It’s the oxygen that keeps this whole rigged game afloat. The question isn’t whether Beyond Meat can recover. It’s whether it deserves to. And, frankly, after a deep dive into the numbers, the answer is a resounding, bloodcurdling NO.
Nvidia, as best as I can ascertain from the fragmented texts of the Buenos Aires National Library’s economic archive, began as a purveyor of graphical illusions. It has since evolved into something far more profound: an architect of simulated realities. Their ‘GPUs,’ these engines of artificial cognition, are not merely processors of images, but instruments for conjuring worlds within worlds. The demand for these devices, fueled by the burgeoning field of ‘AI’—a term I use with a certain epistemological caution—is not surprising. We are, after all, creatures perpetually seeking reflections of ourselves, and now, increasingly, reflections that surpass our own capabilities.
The WINN Archive, as its designation implies, is not merely a collection of equities, but a carefully curated repository. Its current composition, as of the aforementioned date, reveals a portfolio valued at $1.09 billion, trading at $30.95 per share – a figure, incidentally, 5.3% below its recent apex. The fund’s one-year total return stands at 15.5%, a respectable, though slightly lagging, performance compared to the broader S&P 500. However, to focus solely on numerical metrics is to miss the underlying structure. The fund’s architects favor a non-diversified approach, allowing for concentrated positions – a deliberate constriction of possibilities, reminiscent of a Borges tale where a single library contains all knowledge, yet access is limited by a labyrinthine cataloging system.
In a tale that would make Willy Wonka shudder, Brazilian nifty coppers cracked the case of the cheeky young codecracker known as Franca. In July 2024, this cookie thief sneaked into the Cashway payment system the way a mouse steals cheese, breaking into dormant employee accounts that hadn’t even been scrubbed since the days of VHS.
Three businesses, upon careful consideration, appear particularly well-suited to the discerning investor: Eli Lilly, a purveyor of remedies most efficacious; American Express, a facilitator of commerce with a reputation most esteemed; and Alphabet, a vast and diversified undertaking with ambitions most expansive. Each, in its own way, presents a prospect worthy of attention.
On January 12th, a filing appeared. Peak Financial Advisors, a name as bland as unseasoned oatmeal, reported this purchase. Fifteen million dollars worth of bonds. It’s a transaction, really. A shuffling of digits. A brief flicker in the vast, indifferent universe of capital. They’re betting, of course. Everyone is always betting.
