The market, ever the optimist, had already priced in this lack of decisiveness. The so-called experts at CME, those oracles of the spreadsheet, predicted as much. Of course, predictions are like pigeons – often full of… well, you get the idea. Still, it’s a comforting delusion for those who trade in these ephemeral things.
To speak of ‘value’ in these times is itself a fraught undertaking. The metrics are often obscured by artifice, by the relentless pursuit of short-term gains. Yet, beneath the surface noise, there remain enterprises capable of genuine expansion, of delivering benefit beyond the mere accumulation of capital. These are the concerns that warrant our consideration, not those built on ephemeral hype or the exploitation of human frailty.
So, while the manic hordes chase phantom gains, let’s talk about something REAL. Something…reliable. We’re talking about the Dividend Kings. Companies that have been coughing up cash for FIFTY YEARS. Fifty years! That’s before color television, before the internet, before…well, before everything went completely insane. These aren’t just stocks; they’re life rafts in a sea of financial hysteria. They offer a pathetic glimmer of sanity in a world gone mad. And in 2026? You’ll be thanking your lucky stars you didn’t bet the farm on some tech bubble.
So, Exelixis. They’ve got this drug, Cabometyx. Sounds like a robot vacuum cleaner. It’s for cancer, apparently. Good for them. They’ve been riding this one drug for a decade. A decade! That’s like, ten years of hoping nobody comes up with a better robot vacuum…or, you know, cancer treatment. It’s a little precarious, don’t you think? They’re trying to diversify, which is smart. Though, the whole thing feels…late. Like realizing you need to start saving for retirement when you’re already collecting Social Security. They’ve applied for approval for this new drug, zanzalintinib. Zanzalintinib! What kind of name is that? It sounds like a fungal infection. They’re pairing it with something from Roche, Tecentriq. It’s a whole team effort. Which is fine. Unless, of course, something goes wrong. Then it’s everyone’s fault. And nobody takes responsibility. The usual.
Apparently, this constitutes 1.42% of their U.S. equity holdings. A significant gesture, or merely a rounding error? One suspects the latter. Their top holdings, for the record, include WELL ($484.38 million), PLD ($402.94 million), EQIX ($366.48 million), DLR ($238.67 million), and VTR ($199.35 million). A veritable pantheon of… well, property. How dreadfully predictable.
The truly interesting development, the one everyone is overlooking in their frantic scramble for the latest gadget, is the impending crisis in memory. Quite simple, really. One can build all the computational power one likes, but it’s utterly useless if the data can’t get to it. And that, my dears, is where Micron Technology comes in. Rather clever, really.
The fund now holds about 2.42% of GGLL’s assets. Which, in the grand scheme of things, isn’t much. But enough to make a ripple. The top holdings, as of the filing, looked like this:
Let us examine the evidence, presented with a clarity befitting discerning minds:
For years, the Perseverance rover, a diligent wanderer in the ochre wilderness, has been collecting fragments of another world—air, soil, rock—holding them as one might hold precious memories. These samples, cradled within metallic test tubes, await a messenger, a return passage to Earth. MSR was to be that messenger. But the cost, a sum that echoes the vastness of space itself—eight to eleven billion dollars—proved a burden too great for the current fiscal climate. It is a familiar story: the grand vision colliding with the mundane realities of accounting.
And so, we find ourselves in the early days of 2026, with this particular bull market continuing its improbable journey. It’s a bit like watching a particularly determined snail attempt to circumnavigate the globe – statistically unlikely, but happening nonetheless. (One assumes the snail has a good travel agent.) However, even in this optimistic climate, a rather persistent fact lingers: markets, unlike certain politicians, do not ascend in a perfectly straight line. A downturn will occur. The question isn’t if, but when, and whether 2026 will be the year of reckoning.