qfx

Netflix, you see, briefly entertained the notion of acquiring bits and pieces of Warner Bros. Discovery. It was a sum exceeding eighty-two billion dollars, a figure that, if you stacked it in ten-dollar bills, would stretch from here to, oh, I don’t know, somewhere rather distant. Investors, however, didn’t appear thrilled. The stock price wobbled like a jelly, and the general mood suggested a collective intake of breath. When Netflix wisely decided to step away from the deal, the stock, in a display of market logic that briefly restored my faith in humanity, actually rose.

Markets, you see, have a peculiar habit of overreacting. It’s as if they collectively decide something is dreadful, then spend the next six months proving themselves right. (This is, incidentally, how most conspiracy theories begin. A seed of doubt, watered by confirmation bias, and suddenly everyone’s convinced pigeons are government drones. Which, admittedly, is a perfectly plausible explanation.) But Novo Nordisk isn’t simply any company. It’s a company that, against all odds and the relentless march of entropy, continues to innovate. And, crucially, it has a drug that might just turn things around.

See, BND is your steady, reliable mule. A workhorse. It holds a passel of U.S. bonds, mostly government issues, and it’s about as risky as a Sunday afternoon nap. VWOB, now that’s a different critter altogether. It’s like saddlin’ up a wild mustang and headin’ for the hills. It invests in bonds issued by governments in what they call “emerging markets” – countries still findin’ their feet, shall we say. Which is a polite way of sayin’ they might be a bit more prone to a stumble or two.

It turns out Broadcom has been doing rather well, up 449% over the last three years. Apparently, everyone is building these massive data centers, these digital fortresses, and they all need chips. Specifically, they need the application-specific integrated circuits (ASICs) that Broadcom makes. It’s not glamorous, I’ll admit. It’s not like investing in a company that makes self-folding laundry. But it’s…necessary. And necessity, as I’ve learned, is a surprisingly good indicator of profit.

Now, Remitly, for those unfamiliar, is in the business of moving money around the world. Specifically, it helps immigrants send funds back home to family. It’s a vital service, and a surprisingly complex one. Think of all the regulations, exchange rates, and potential for fraud involved. It’s a wonder anyone manages to get a tenner to Aunt Mildred in time for her birthday.