But here’s the thing. A 30% drop in earnings, okay, that’s bad. But does that justify a 40% hit to the stock price? I mean, come on. People are irrational. Completely irrational. They panic over everything. It’s exhausting.
AWS is, in essence, Amazon’s rent-seeking operation – a vast provision of computing power and storage sold to others. It currently holds the largest share of the global cloud market, approximately 29% according to Statista. This dominance, however, is not guaranteed. Microsoft and Alphabet, both formidable entities, are aggressively expanding their own cloud offerings, and the competition is intensifying. It is a simple truth that monopolies, even in the digital realm, are rarely permanent.
Yesterday brought news of the abrupt departure of Chief Financial Officer Alex Kayyal, appointed to the role a mere five months ago. A blink of an eye in geological terms, a significant portion of a fiscal quarter, and a lifetime in the hyper-accelerated world of digital advertising. Today, however, the situation was compounded by the simultaneous downgrades from not one, not two, but a full trio of sell-side analysts. It’s like a perfectly orchestrated symphony of pessimism. (Or perhaps a slightly out-of-tune kazoo ensemble. It depends on your perspective, and frankly, your hearing.)
The company, it is said, is undergoing a ‘turnaround’ – a term redolent of ancient alchemical endeavors. Initial indications suggest a partial success. Comparable store sales, after a period of recession, have tentatively turned positive in the fourth fiscal quarter. But is this a genuine reversal, or merely a fleeting illusion, a momentary shimmer in the labyrinthine corridors of commerce?
The whispers in Washington, the concerns about data and dominion, they held the platform hostage. A bipartisan wind blew, demanding a transfer of ownership, a shifting of the sands. It wasn’t about the dancing videos, not really. It was about who held the keys to the attention of a nation, and what secrets that attention might yield.
According to a filing with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission – a place where truths go to be carefully documented and then mostly ignored1 – Graphene decided, in the fourth quarter, that Bath & Body Works wasn’t worth the trouble. They sold the lot. The value of the position evaporated by $2.95 million, which is a substantial sum, even in a world where people pay good money for water bottled in Fiji. It’s not just the money, of course. It’s the signal. When a fund like Graphene pulls the plug, it suggests the scent of optimism has faded.
The impetus for this upward trajectory, as is so often the case, originates from the pronouncements of those who hold the keys to capital. Specifically, the increased investment by Nvidia – a doubling of their stake to 47 million shares, a valuation exceeding $4.6 billion – has stirred the analytical waters. It is a concentration of power, a tightening of the noose around the nascent neck of independent cloud infrastructure. Ninety percent of Nvidia’s equity portfolio now resides within CoreWeave – a fact which, while presented as a strategic alliance, carries the scent of something more…definitive.
The fourth quarter, you see, is when the great annual spending ritual takes place. A time of frantic acquisition, of desperate attempts to fill the void with material possessions. The charts, predictably, exhibit a peculiar undulation, a yearly rise and fall mirroring the collective madness. One might almost suspect a cosmic influence, a celestial alignment that compels humanity to…purchase.
The analysts, those diligent number-crunchers, were expecting $2.11 a share on sales of $113.7 billion. Sales came in a hair under, at $113.2 billion – hardly a catastrophe. Earnings, adjusted for the usual accounting wizardry (because, let’s face it, accounting is a bit like a magic trick – impressive, but you’re never quite sure where everything went), hit the mark. But, as the saying goes, the devil is always in the details, and these details were…peculiar.
According to a filing dated January 26, 2026 – a date which, I confess, feels frightfully futuristic – Rye Brook Capital has relinquished its entire stake in IBB. The transaction, valued at $3.50 million based on the average share price during the quarter, has resulted in a corresponding decline in the fund’s quarter-end position. Post-trade, they report a distinct lack of remaining shares. A clean sweep, as it were. Rather like clearing out a particularly dusty attic.