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Several sizable contracts are, it is claimed, within reach. One notes, however, that the promise of future revenue is a poor substitute for present solvency. The construction of twelve modules proceeds, a commendable undertaking, yet one which demands a steady flow of funds – funds which, one suspects, are not being generated by the reactors themselves, but rather by the increasingly patient shareholders.

But I’m putting money on a climb. A push back toward one hundred and twenty-five thousand by the year’s end. Not because of any grand vision, but because the currents are shifting, and money, like water, always finds a crack.

Apple. Of course. Everyone loves Apple. It’s the default. The phone your mother uses. The phone that inexplicably requires a new adapter every six months. Berkshire’s been hoarding this stock for years, and Buffett once said it was the “best business” he knew. The best! What does that even mean? It makes nice rectangles? And now the new CEO, Abel, is saying it’ll “compound over decades.” Compounding! Like it’s some sort of magical investment fairy dust. It’s a stock, Greg. A stock. It goes up, it goes down. Stop with the theatrics.

Now, I’m not saying Micron is going to suddenly become Nvidia. That would be ridiculous. But the idea that these AI systems – these things that are supposed to be so smart – are going to be bottlenecked because they can’t access data fast enough? It’s infuriating! It’s like building a superhighway and then putting a dirt road at the entrance. And Micron, they’re making the stuff that prevents the dirt road. They’re the guys who are like, “No, we’re going to have a proper on-ramp here!” It’s a basic courtesy!

The retail giant, you see, is currently enjoying a wave of investor approval, largely based on the hopeful notion that the worst of its sales slowdown is, thankfully, behind it. And, of course, there’s the new CEO, Mr. Michael Fiddelke, whose appointment has instilled a certain degree of optimism – a bit like introducing a competent helmsman to a vessel that’s been listing dangerously. Still, one mustn’t get carried away. The shares, whilst showing a recent perk-up, remain a good twenty-five per cent down over the last three years, and a truly alarming fifty per cent off their all-time high. A bit like a promising young chap who’s had a rather unfortunate series of setbacks.

As of Wednesday night – and I checked, mostly to confirm I hadn’t accidentally wandered into a different decade – Brent crude was flirting with $93.63 a barrel. Up 6.6% from Tuesday. 31% from before the shouting started. The numbers themselves are numbing. It’s like trying to calculate the precise number of dust bunnies under my sofa. A futile exercise in acknowledging the inevitable accumulation of unpleasantness.