US Stocks prediction

Robinhood (HOOD), that carnival barker of modern finance, first whispered these incantations to European clients, offering digital effigies of Apple shares that shimmered with the promise of perpetual motion. The concept, they claimed, was simple: a token to mirror reality, a shadow to dance with substance. But in the labyrinth of financial sorcery, even shadows cast weight. When the platform conjured shares of OpenAI from the ether, the company itself materialized like Banquo’s ghost to warn against such necromancy, leaving investors to ponder whether they held securities or séances.

Before Solana’s price surges, capital must show up—like a knight answering the call to arms. Enter the U.S. spot ETF, the holy grail of crypto. The SEC, that medieval king of regulations, might bless a Solana ETF by November, letting asset managers buy tokens like a knight hoarding gold. If approved, expect a stampede of retail investors and retirement plans, all eager to join the party. Even now, Solana futures ETFs have gobbled up $78 million—proof that the crowd’s not entirely mad.

Enter nuclear energy, that old grumpy giant who’s finally been dusted off and given a new hat. The U.S. government, with its golden pockets and bureaucratic wands, is waving billions toward small modular reactors (SMRs), those clever little boxes that hum with carbon-free magic. It’s a tale of energy independence and climate resilience, all wrapped in a bow of regulatory paperwork.

You’ve got the usual suspects lined up in the dark—profit-takers whose hands itch like they’ve been playing with fiberglass, jittery macro conditions that shift quicker than a stool-pigeon’s testimony, and regulators in smoked-glass offices with the power to turn hope into sand. I’ve seen it before. Money walks in fancy shoes but bleeds like the rest.

Nvidia (NVDA), bless its silicon heart, is currently leading the charge, rather like a particularly enthusiastic schoolboy leading a conga line. They’ve cornered the market in the bits and bobs that make these digital brains tick, and as a consequence, their figures have been multiplying faster than rabbits in springtime. The stock has performed with a vigour that would make even the most seasoned investor raise an eyebrow – and perhaps adjust their waistcoat.

JPMorgan’s Q2 results? A masterclass in “surprise, surprise!” Revenue hit $44.9 billion, and their investment banking segment was the class clown—loud, obnoxious, and somehow making everyone laugh. Net income? A chump-change $15 million. Wait, no—that’s impressive? Don’t worry, I’ll pretend I understand how a 33.4% net profit margin happens too. Just know this: When a company spends $3.9 billion on dividends and $7.1 billion buying back shares, it’s either fiscal discipline or a really expensive group therapy session for shareholders.

This year, the MLP has swallowed a peculiar $2.4 billion morsel called Northwind Midstream—a creature of pipelines and acid gas wells, now lodged in its financial gullet. One might imagine the transaction as a serpent consuming its own tail, though the boardroom alchemists assure us it will “enhance cash flow” and “accelerate growth opportunities.” A familiar incantation, no doubt, whispered over ledgers since time immemorial.

2025-08-01 11:36

Buffett has always seemed immortal, in the way that, say, the Queen was immortal or the geese in Hyde Park are immortal (i.e., not actually immortal). My entire investing adolescence has been spent comforted by the idea that buying Berkshire Hathaway was like bunking onto Buffett’s lifeboat: safe, if alarmingly full of insurance documents.

But now, there’s an expiration date on this cozy arrangement. By the end of 2025, Buffett steps down as CEO. The new protagonist? Greg Abel—loyal, steady, big on utility companies, perhaps not so into Cherry Coke. Buffett himself remains as chairman, which is reassuring in a “parental controls still on the telly” sort of way. But, as a growth investor, I must acknowledge the awkward breakfast-table truth: Abel is not Buffett. No one is Buffett, except, of course, Buffett.

Current status: Monitoring Greg Abel for signs of endearing quirks, spontaneous stock jokes, or an ability to resist meme stocks. Watch this space.

Now, if these predictions come to fruition, for the shareholders, it’s… fine. I guess. It’s fine for them. But it’s about the principle of the thing.