The data center market is currently the most lucrative dungeon crawl in the tech industry, and AMD is attempting to loot the hoard while wearing a hat that says “I’m not really a dragon, honest”. Its MI300 GPUs are doing the equivalent of brandishing a rusty sword in a battle against a fire-breathing wyrm, but the quest is far from over. Investors, like wise wizards, must watch how AMD sharpens its blade in the coming months.
This alteration in apparent market dynamics demands, it is suggested, a degree of investor attentiveness. The following constitutes an attempt to delineate the reasons, though whether these reasons are causative or merely coincidental remains, as always, a matter of speculation carefully laundered through the apparatus of financial pronouncements.
Consider the grotesque machinery of the BDC, a creature birthed by Congress to devour its own entrails. By law, it must disgorge 90% of taxable income to shareholders, a ritualistic purge that transforms boardrooms into altars of sacrifice. Here, profit is not a goal but a feverish compulsion, a madness dressed in pinstripes.
Once a modestly valued enterprise, AppLovin traded at about ten times its sales only a few years ago; today, the market’s exuberance has elevated its multiple to over twenty. In this subtle shift, one discerns the gentle yet unmistakable nod of investor confidence—a quiet acknowledgment that the company’s innovative spirit is both recognized and rewarded. Yet, as any prudent value investor knows, such exuberance must be weighed against the immutable truths of fiscal discipline.
Yet here we are, staring at a price that’s perilously close to its all-time high. One might wonder if the market is merely holding its breath, waiting for a sigh of relief—or a full-blown panic. The tension is palpable, like a toddler clutching a balloon just before it floats away.
Ah, but here’s the rub: these aren’t your run-of-the-mill meme stocks or crypto coins named after cats. Oh no, dear reader, these are blue-chip behemoths from the Dow Jones Industrial Average—the kind of companies that have been around longer than silent movies. They’ve taken their lumps recently, sure, but like a Borscht Belt comedian with a bad set, they’re ready for a comeback. So sit back, relax, and prepare to laugh all the way to the bank.
Palantir, once a cartographer of shadows for intelligence agencies, now peddles oracles to boardrooms. Its Artificial Intelligence Platform (AIP) stitches fragmented data into a tapestry of prophecy, promising executives a glimpse of the Aleph—the point containing all other points. The numbers, though blunt instruments, whisper of alchemy: revenue up 39% year-over-year, U.S. commercial growth surging 71%, remaining deal value multiplying like rabbits in a Fibonacci sequence.
Both stocks have become holy relics for dividend investors, clinging to their 50-year payout streaks like addicts to a dwindling stash. But let’s be clear: this is not about growth. This is about survival in a world where people are finally realizing that soda is a slow-motion poison. One of these stocks might still be salvageable, but the other? Well, let’s just say it’s a house of cards built on a sugar-fueled acid trip.
Consider the iconic S&P 500 (^GSPC), which in early April shed 10.5% of its essence over two days—a wound so fresh it ranked among the five deepest in 75 years. The Nasdaq Composite (^IXIC), that restless child of technological dreams, tumbled into a bear market, its innocence lost anew. Yet within this chaos lay absurdity: a week later, these indices staged a resurrection so miraculous they might have borrowed wings from Icarus himself, soaring to heights unseen since their birth.
CoreWeave and Nebius, names that echo faintly with the weight of ambition, have risen with a velocity usually reserved for fallen idols. Investors, caught in the current of a new technological delirium, have thrown capital towards these entities, convinced they hold the keys to a kingdom built on artificial intelligence. The year has unfolded with a grace inversely proportional to the frenzy it has inspired, with CoreWeave ascending a dizzying 224% since its debut in March, and Nebius, a more modest, yet still substantial, 84% climb. Both are merchants of raw potential, renting out the muscle – the graphic processing units – that allow others to breathe sentience into machines, to create phantoms in the digital ether, and, of course, to profit handsomely from the illusion.