The impetus, predictably, stemmed from the pronouncements of Brian Schwartz at Oppenheimer. Before the opening bell had fully awakened the trading floor, he elevated Oracle from the tepid ‘perform’ to the more assertive ‘outperform’ – a linguistic nuance that, while subtle, hints at a burgeoning confidence. His target price, a neatly rounded $185 per share, hangs like a gilded promise in the ether.
the architect of this new reality. Their semiconductors weren’t merely components; they were the nervous system of this mechanical awakening, the pathways through which intelligence flowed. And while Nvidia itself remains a formidable position—a no-brainer, as some would say—the true opportunities, the most fertile ground for growth, lie elsewhere, among those who dare to build upon this foundation. The market, ever fickle, demands diversification, a spreading of risk, a keen eye for the rising tide.
Trading volume reached 67.5 million shares, which is, if you’re keeping track (and honestly, who isn’t?), about 44% above the three-month average of 46.8 million. Netflix, for those unfamiliar with its history (which, admittedly, feels like several geological epochs ago), IPO’d back in 2002. Since then, it’s grown 69,028%. Which is… a lot. It’s the kind of number that makes one question the very nature of reality. (Is it possible, for instance, that we’re all just algorithms in a particularly elaborate simulation designed to maximize streaming revenue? The thought is… unsettling.)
They reported revenue just shy of $278 million, up 13% from last year. Not bad. Net income, the kind accountants like to pretend is real, rose a modest 1% to $65.3 million. A tiny blip on the radar of the universe, really. But enough to make some people happy. They beat expectations, which are, of course, just guesses dressed up in spreadsheets.
The SEC filing, dated the aforementioned February day, revealed an addition of 104,308 shares during the final quarter of the previous year. A figure, let us concede, not entirely negligible. The fund’s position, when tallied at quarter’s end, bloomed to a value of $3.5 million—a sum subtly inflated, naturally, by the capricious whims of the market. Mason’s stake, thus enhanced, now boasts a market value of $8.8 million. A comfortable, if uninspired, sum. One wonders if the portfolio managers dream in balance sheets.
Apparently, AYAL snagged 44,000 shares in the fourth quarter. Which, okay, fine. They’re putting money where their mouth is – or, you know, where they hope Middleby’s mouth will be in a few years. The position represents 2.28% of their $286.97 million portfolio. A smallish bet, but a bet nonetheless. They’ve got a decent spread – NVRI, SEI, OFIX, BGSI, PAR – all solid, predictable names. Middleby feels…different. A little bit reckless, wouldn’t you say?
The filing dates back to February, a cold month for illusions. AYAL, it seems, has decided to bet on the endless cycle of collision and repair. A 3.23% slice of their reportable assets, devoted to fixing what’s been broken. A pragmatic move, or a confession that everything will eventually break? The numbers dance: $15.05 million in NVRI, $14.21 in SEI, and so on. Boyd, at $9.26 million, sits among them. A cog in the machine, polished and presented.
The question, of course, is whether this is a genuine rally, a fleeting moment of exuberance, or simply the digital equivalent of a hiccup. It’s a bit like trying to predict the weather in Britain – you can make an educated guess, but you’re probably going to be wrong. For months now, the trend has been decidedly downward, a relentless parade of selling pressure that has left many investors clinging to their holdings with the tenacity of a barnacle.
The fourth quarter of 2025 saw Clear Secure amass $240.8 million in revenue – a rise of nearly 17% over the previous year. This, we are informed, is largely due to an increase in membership – a staggering 32% – bringing the total to 38 million souls willingly submitting to biometric scanning for the privilege of slightly less queuing. A truly remarkable achievement, though one wonders if they offer a frequent flyer program for the scanners themselves.
The filing speaks plainly enough: 762,100 shares, gone. A complete exit. The fund, it seems, decided to collect its winnings rather than gamble on further gains. One doesn’t begrudge a man taking profit, especially in a world where tomorrow is never guaranteed. It’s the why that lingers, a shadow on the ledger.