usdaed

The filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission, a document as dry as pressed autumn leaves, reveals more than mere numbers. It speaks of a reassessment, a quiet recalibration. The fund’s position in AIQ, once a sturdy branch on the Stonebridge tree, has diminished, its value retreating by a considerable sum. One senses not panic, but a deliberate pruning, a shaping of the portfolio to align with a vision that is, perhaps, becoming clearer.

The prognosticators, those learned soothsayers of the market, had predicted a modest earnings of $1.27 per share, upon revenues of $2.7 billion for the quarter. Booz Allen, alas, stumbled somewhat on the revenue front, presenting a sum of only $2.6 billion. Yet, like a player miraculously recovering from a misstep, it triumphed in earnings, delivering a handsome $1.77 per share. A most unexpected turn of events!

Rambus. The name itself feels like a relic, a forgotten artifact dug up from the ruins of the old tech order. For those of us who were there, wading through the wreckage, it conjures images of patent wars, broken promises, and a whole lot of hype. But this isn’t a eulogy. This is a dispatch from the front lines. Because, against all odds, Rambus is… back. And it’s not just clinging to life support. It’s showing signs of a goddamn pulse.

But the thinking isn’t done in a vacuum. These new minds require a memory, a place to store the lessons learned, the data gathered. That’s where a company called Micron comes in. They don’t build the brains themselves, but the storehouses where the knowledge resides. It’s a quiet business, making the things that hold everything else together, and often overlooked until it’s needed most. Like the hands that built the railroads, they’re essential, but rarely celebrated.

According to filings with the Securities and Exchange Commission – a bureaucratic labyrinth that would make even the most seasoned bureaucrat weep – Premier Path increased its holdings of ACWX during the final quarter of 2025. By year’s end, the position had swelled to $18.16 million, a gain of $4.74 million. One suspects the firm’s analysts, after much deliberation and the consumption of copious amounts of tea, deemed the global market sufficiently…interesting.

For years, FIS has been trending downwards, a slow leak of value that has seen a three-year annualized return of negative 5% and a five-year plunge of 14%. It’s a bit like watching a perfectly good golem slowly crumble into dust, isn’t it?² The source of this malaise? A rather ambitious acquisition of Worldpay back in 2019. Think of it as trying to graft a particularly thorny rose bush onto a sturdy oak tree. It looked good on the ledger, but the resulting hybrid was… unhappy.

The filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission, dated as above, reveals a complete severing of ties. The fund, having once held this FMC as a portion of its holdings, now bears no trace of it. A diminution of $5.14 million, yes, but also a reckoning with a share price that had, over the past year, descended into a lamentable state. The arithmetic of loss is rarely simple; it is compounded by the opportunity cost of capital held hostage.

And get this – the stock was up 234% in the last year. Two hundred and thirty-four percent! People were actually excited about this company. And now? Now it’s just…less up. Which, fine, it’s a market. But it’s the principle of the thing!

The current enthusiasm for investment is, in part, a consequence of dwindling alternatives. Savings accounts offer a pittance, and the promise of genuine economic security feels increasingly distant. This creates a fertile ground for speculation, and the proliferation of platforms promising easy wealth. To enter this arena with even a small stake requires a degree of caution rarely observed.