While the breathless pronouncements about self-driving cares generally revolve around Tesla and the somewhat earnest efforts of Waymo, Uber is operating with a finesse quite its own. They’re not attempting to *build* the confounded vehicles, you see. Rather, they aim to become the rather indispensable software and – more importantly – the demand layer. Which is, frankly, much more sensible.
They’re at $3.7 billion valuation as of August 1st. Three point seven *billion*. For a company still waiting for data. It’s like…buying a timeshare based on a rendering. A *rendering*! But the industry, naturally, is doing its thing, pretending this makes sense. After Pfizer’s fiasco and Roche’s…well, whatever *that* was—spending billions and then getting nothing? It’s supposed to create an “opportunity”? Just admit it was a bad bet!
If I had a penny for every time a geopolitical development caused my portfolio to wobble, I’d be writing this from a sunlit beach, not hunched over a laptop contemplating the latest market chaos. Last week’s plunge seemed tied to some sort of international game of poker—only everyone’s bluffing, and no one really knows the hands being played. The US made a surprising move: lifting technology export restrictions on high-performance semiconductors and chipmaking tech, ostensibly to give Huawei a boost or perhaps to spice up negotiations with China. But for TMC, this was more like watching a ship veer perilously close to rocky shores — not good, especially since seabed minerals are, I’ve come to understand, kind of the company’s raison d’être.
What sparked the bloodshed? Not some spectacular quarterly earnings or a coup de grâce from a rival firm. No, it was the subtle, insidious announcement that the U.S. government’s calculus on China had shifted—lifting restrictions on keystones of AI warfare that once made these stocks sweat bullets in secret underground bunkers. Suddenly, the valuation that had surged 90.5% over a savage three-month sprint started wobbling—a cautious retreat as traders, with sweat-stained palms, sensed the winds turning. Because in the bloody arena of AI-infused defense stocks, perception is death and reality is just a distant second.
The initial bloodletting stemmed, predictably, from the Great American Trade Tango with China. One minute, semiconductor restrictions are holding—a pathetic attempt to contain the dragon. The next? GONE. Vanished into the ether, courtesy of the ever-unpredictable hand of Washington. Suddenly, the possibility of a “deal” loomed, a horrifying prospect for anyone trying to build a sustainable business. Because a deal with China is never a deal, it’s a temporary ceasefire in a long, slow WAR for technological dominance.
Buffett and Munger, those twin architects of fortune, have conjured a 5,500,000% ascent, a feat that would make even the most jaded alchemist envious. The S&P 500, that paragon of mediocrity, lags in its 39,000% march—a mere footnote to the symphony of Berkshire’s crescendo.
Behold Generac Holdings (GNRC), a maker of backup power generators, whose stock soared 36% in July, ascending as if lifted by some divine hand—or perhaps merely the clever machinations of mortal greed. The catalyst? A better-than-expected earnings report, delivered with all the subtlety of a thunderclap at the month’s end.
Whirlpool and UPS: both are not so much mere enterprises as mighty vessels upon the unpredictable sea of consumer spending. And both have had their hulls bruised by the harsh waves of international tariffs—a force as inscrutable and indifferent as the Siberian winter, chilling commerce and sowing uncertainty.
Had you opted instead for the humble S&P 500 index fund, the picture would be rather different. That same $1,000 would have swollen to $2,034—a dazzling, almost miraculous doubling in just five years. Imagine the splendor of that investment at the end of a half-decade: a neat little sum of well-earned money, rather than a sad, drooping chicken egg.
Despite all the hullabaloo, Zoom remains the undisputed heavyweight champion in the ring of online meetings—at least for now. It’s worth noting that even though its stock languishes at a tiny fraction of its 2020 peak (which admittedly, was as artificially inflated as a balloon animal at a comedy festival), it managed to outpace the S&P 500 over the past year, as if to say, “Hey, I’m still here, and I’m still outperforming the big guys.” The foreboding question then becomes: Is this a sign of a dying star or just a late bloom in a galaxy of digital connectivity? Or perhaps, more simply, is this just another arbitrage in the endless dance of market folly?