For the record. Interest rate‑sensitive sectors have been suffocated by an overly restrictive Federal Reserve stance since 2023, and 2026 must mark the point where policy finally allows these parts of the economy to breathe again. The persistent anomaly of the two‑year Treasury yield sitting below the effective federal funds rate for the longest stretch in the post‑GFC period is a clear market verdict: the Powell Fed has been too tight for too long. Even as inflation has cooled and forward‑looking indicators have softened, the labor market is weakening, the Fed has insisted on holding policy deep in restrictive territory, widening the disconnect between market‑implied equilibrium rates and the official policy path. This misalignment has suppressed credit formation, weighed on housing and other rate‑sensitive sectors, and delayed the normal early‑cycle trade. IMHO in 2026 the early cycle trade makes a come back. The institution requires more than a cosmetic pivot; it needs a structural reset. Installing a new Fed Chair such as Kevin Hassett would be an important first step toward realigning policy with market signals, prioritizing growth, and modernizing the Fed’s framework for a supply‑driven, capital‑intensive cycle. Under such leadership, 2026 could be the year when interest rate‑sensitive sectors finally emerge from the policy‑induced chokehold and lead a new phase of expansion.

For the record. Liquidity is the fuel of every bull market; the real question is never if it will fade, but when the tap is turned off. The pundit class will keep pretending that merely raising the possibility of “liquidity drying up” is deep insight, when in reality it is the oldest, laziest trope in the book. In every major technology wave, from AI to crypto, the strawman goes like this: “What if the capital spigot suddenly shuts?” This is not profound. Yes the cycle will eventually end, just not now. The timing mechanism is what matters, and that lives in policy, tax, regulation, and balance-sheet capacity, not in clickbait abstractions about “sentiment” or “animal spirits.” The rule is simple: when incremental liquidity stops driving marginal returns, the bull is already in its late innings; pointing out that the game will end at some point is not a forecast, it is punditry malpractice. IMHO in this cycle, the cleanest line of sight is not to social-media vibes, but to statute. Under the BBBA framework, a 100% tax deduction for capex through Jan 1, 2031 effectively hardwires a multi‑year incentive to overbuild productive assets, including AI infrastructure, until that window closes. That is the working assumption: the liquidity impulse tied to capex remains structurally supported into 2030, unless the legal or macro backdrop changes. If those facts change, the view changes; but until then, the default is continuation, not sudden cardiac arrest in capital markets. So get used to the noise: “What if the money stops?” is going to be the go‑to scare line every time AI or crypto prints a new high. The serious question is: what is the policy, tax, and balance‑sheet architecture that would actually cause it to stop, and on what timetable? Anyone who cannot answer that is not offering a risk framework; they are selling anxiety for engagement.

This is a sentiment‑driven market, whipsawed by Fed‑cut sentiments, AI‑bubble fearmongering, and crypto theatrics, while a weakening labor market, shelter‑tainted inflation prints, and non‑inflationary tariffs expose a Fed and Wall Street more addicted to narrative than to reality and facts.