Archer Aviation (ACHR 3.23%), a company dedicated to crafting these airborne contraptions – specifically, a model called Midnight – has enjoyed a considerable surge in its share price. A surge, I might add, fueled more by dreams of effortless travel than by, well, actual revenue. They’ve been forging partnerships, securing certifications, and generally creating the impression of progress. A fine art, that is. A very fine art indeed.
The company, having emerged from a period of enforced austerity – a “Liberation Day,” as some have termed it – had, indeed, doubled its valuation. This ascent, however, bred a certain expectation, a demand for perpetual motion. When the pronouncements did not meet this artificial standard, the market reacted with predictable haste. It is a familiar pattern: the swift condemnation of any entity daring to deviate from the prescribed trajectory of unbridled growth.
Investors, if they’re feeling ambitious, might look at these companies. Just a thought. Don’t say I told you to.
The question, of course, is where to position oneself when the inevitable correction arrives. To avoid the wreckage entirely would be prudent, but one must occasionally dabble. Micron Technology, a name that conjures images of dusty circuit boards and overlooked engineers, appears to be the least objectionable of the available options. Not, let us be clear, a sound investment in the conventional sense, but a potential beneficiary of the aforementioned mania, and therefore, a temporary reprieve from the prevailing boredom.
There are reasons, of course, beyond the simple appeal of a rising line on a chart. It’s a tale worth telling, and understanding.
The recent pronouncement of another distribution increase is not merely a numerical event; it is a symptom. A symptom of a system wherein steady, predictable returns are increasingly rare, and where the pursuit of exponential growth often eclipses the fundamental need for durable, sustainable yield. Energy Transfer, with its commitment to incrementalism, appears, at least superficially, to offer a respite from this relentless pursuit of the spectacular.
Of course, it hasn’t been entirely champagne and canapés. The little unpleasantness of early 2020 – that pandemic, you know – caused a bit of a wobble. A 34% drop in the S&P 500. Ghastly. And then, the tariffs. Oh, the tariffs. A two-day plunge of 10.5%. One felt quite sorry for the traders. Though, naturally, one didn’t express it.
The bottleneck, it appears, resides not in the appetite of consumers, but in the capacity of the foundry. TSMC, that Taiwanese behemoth, finds itself stretched thin, burdened by the demands of an industry intoxicated by the promise of artificial intelligence. The very accelerators that propel this new age are, ironically, limiting its reach. A curious paradox, wouldn’t you agree? It is a reminder that even the most advanced enterprises are, at their core, subject to the limitations of earthly logistics.
Berkshire Hathaway. The name itself sounds like a conspiracy. They didn’t just buy oil, they inhaled it. Chevron, Occidental… names that used to evoke gas stations and road trips now whisper of fortunes and leverage. Twenty-one billion here, twelve billion there… it’s enough to make a sane man question reality. And then the acquisitions. Dominion Energy’s assets? Snapped up like candy. Cove Point? Another piece of the puzzle. It’s a land grab, a frantic scramble for the black gold before the world supposedly turns green. They’re building a fortress, a dividend-spewing monolith fueled by the planet’s dwindling reserves. And the cash? Oh, the cash pile. They weren’t buying growth stocks; they were hoarding ammunition.
The company, once a purveyor of plastic discs, is now presented as a potential analogue to Berkshire Hathaway. This claim warrants scrutiny, not celebration. Mr. Burry’s recent purchase of GameStop shares, while perhaps motivated by a genuine belief in its leadership, feels less like shrewd investment and more like a desperate search for a narrative.