But let’s get back to that original $10,200 investment. The one you could have made when Google went public. If you’d put that money in back then and kept your hands off the keyboard, you’d have a cool million today. But here’s the question: Is Alphabet still that “make a millionaire” kind of stock, or did the party end with the 2010s?
Alright, let’s give credit where it’s due-even if I’m notoriously bad at math and metaphors. Rivian went from “hey, electric trucks!” to delivering actual metal-on-metal vehicles. Their R1T truck? Respectable. Their Amazon delivery vans? Everywhere. The maniacs even turned a teensy profit last year. I mean, “gross profit” sounds fancy, but it basically means they sold enough trucks to cover costs. Baby steps, right? Then they dropped 10k deliveries in a single quarter. That’s not a fire sale-it’s a bonfire. And the R2’s coming next year, aimed at the masses like a discount coupon aimed at my wallet.
But Buffett, that sage of Omaha, ain’t one to fade quietly into the prairie sunset. Though his words still hum with the optimism of a man who believes in the soil beneath his boots, his hands have been busy-slinging off $177 billion worth of stock since 2022. It’s a quiet sermon, preached in the language of ledgers, warning of fields overripe for the rot.
And so, as the week waned, the stock, which had been modestly humming along, took a sharp fall. By Thursday night, Stitch Fix had shed nearly 17% of its value, much to the chagrin of investors who had hoped for something more-something lasting. The numbers, you see, are often deceptive. S&P Global Market Intelligence’s figures bore witness to this sharp decline, one that seemed to echo the unfortunate fate of so many companies before it, who with great fanfare present their gains, only to be undone by unacknowledged losses.
On the eve of market opening, Nano made its grand announcement: the company had been graciously accepted into not one, not two, but three esteemed equity indexes managed by S&P Dow Jones Indices. And while this might sound like a grand accomplishment, one can’t help but wonder: why, then, the stock’s decline? It appears that Nano now graces the ranks of the S&P Global Broad Market index (BMI), the S&P Total Market index (TMI), and the SPX Completion index. Ah, but here’s the rub-the true gravity of these indexes, their ability to light up the path to fame, pales in comparison to the likes of the mighty S&P 500. The BMI, for example, is a vast and sprawling creature, a leviathan of 14,782 stocks drawn from 48 countries. So vast, in fact, that it’s almost laughable to call it an “index”-a concept so diluted it might as well be called the “Global Hodgepodge Market Index.”
Data from S&P Global Market Intelligence shows Tempus AI dropped 12.4% from the close of last Friday to Thursday’s market end.
The catalyst for this temporary, fragile bloom was none other than Ken Herbert of RBC Capital, whose reasoning for elevating his price target by 38% is as opaque as the motives that drive the ever-hungry machinery of Wall Street. He had raised his forecast from a modest $65 per share to a seemingly inflated $90, yet offered little more than a quiet nod to his own sense of superiority. In an environment where the stock market acts like an unfeeling beast, manipulated by unseen hands, Herbert’s judgment is yet another layer of fog that seeks to disguise the vulgarity of the reality beneath.
The market, ever the fickle suitor, turned its back on valuations today, as if recoiling from a marriage proposal laced with poison. While the Federal Reserve’s rate cuts had briefly inflamed hopes, Chair Powell’s recent quip-that equities “wear their gowns too loosely”-has left investors clutching their purses like Les Précieuses Ridicules at a ball.
The Snapdragon X2 series, introduced with theatrical solemnity, was meant to herald Qualcomm’s second entrance into the realm of PCs. These chips, the company assures us, are both faster and more efficient-like mythic creatures that run swifter than their shadows. They are designed to seduce gamers and creators, two tribes the market views as simultaneously vital and fickle.
Thursday dawned with a twist worthy of a Molière farce: Tiger Securities’ Bo Pei, that shrewd financier, declared Alibaba a “buy,” raising its price target from $145 to $180. One might suppose such alchemy would buoy the stock, yet the irony is thick as the fog of Hangzhou. For lo! this decree followed Alibaba’s grand announcements-new data centers, partnerships with Nvidia, and a deus ex machina of AI ambition. Yet the market, that most rational of audiences, clapped only half-heartedly.