qfx

Make no mistake, the grim reaper of finance had paid a visit, courtesy of one Bob Huang over at Morgan Stanley. He lowered the boom with a downgrade that sent shivers down the spine of the trading floor. Underweight? Holding on to a sinking ship called Progressive? He slashed the price target from a robust $265 to-well-$265. That’s not a typo; it’s the kind of circular reasoning you’d expect in a cheap novel, not a boardroom.

If you’ve ever tried to trim your portfolio like it’s a TED Talk on financial restraint, Manitou’s got a hot take for you. They sliced their Home Depot stake by 30,004 shares during Q3 2025, leaving them with 37,869 shares. Math check: That’s like cutting a slice of pie but keeping the plate. The average closing price made this transaction roughly $11.8 million in “I’ll just hold onto this for a sec” money.

A document, thick as a tax code and dull as a ledger entry, filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission revealed this act of financial sorcery. Cadinha, previously content to graze in the meadows of Berkshire Hathaway and Costco, now stakes its claim in the fortress of Goldman Sachs. The 19,125 shares-worth $15.2 million-constitute 2.1% of the fund’s reportable U.S. equity assets as of the autumnal equinox known as September 30.

Before the markets opened, WW International announced a collaboration with Amazon Pharmacy to sell its weight-loss meds. Let me translate corporate speak: They’re now selling their custom-made GLP-1 drugs through the world’s largest warehouse. It’s like if Weight Watchers opened a pop-up in every Amazon locker-except the product is “slimming” and the delivery is “overnight.”

The market’s exuberance stemmed from whispers of resolution in Congress and the U.S.-China trade tango. Investors, ever the optimists, treated these murmurs as a golden ticket, pouring back into growth stocks with the fervor of a man chasing a mirage in the desert. BlackSky’s leap has swollen its market cap to $948 million-a sum that could buy a small island, if one were so inclined.

Ryan Koontz of Needham, that scribe of Wall Street parables, etched his verdict in ink: $16 per share, a figure plucked from the ether but clung to with the tenacity of a drowning man. His “buy” recommendation, a lifeline thrown to investors, was less a forecast than a prayer. The analyst’s faith, he confessed, was built on presentations from Planet Labs’ investor day-a spectacle where management spoke of satellite contracts and swelling defense budgets, their words polished as a sailor’s brass buttons.