SpaceX plans to launch Starship into orbit Monday. The rocket stands 394 feet tall. That's taller than the Statue of Liberty. Taller than Big Ben. Taller than your chances of timing this stock correctly.
The vehicle consists of two stages. The Super Heavy booster packs 33 Raptor engines. The Starship upper stage has six more. Engineers built the thing in Texas using stainless steel because apparently someone watched The Jetsons and thought "needs more chrome." Previous test flights ended in what SpaceX calls "rapid unscheduled disassemblies." Everyone else calls them explosions.
Musk wants to use Starship for Mars missions. Also moon landings. Also point-to-point Earth travel where you rocket from New York to Tokyo in 30 minutes, assuming you enjoy sitting on 16 million pounds of thrust while eating overpriced airplane peanuts at hypersonic velocity. NASA already picked Starship as the lunar lander for Artemis. They signed the contract before the thing successfully reached orbit. That's the kind of procurement strategy that makes defense contractors weep with joy.
Retail traders will dump their portfolios into SpaceX adjacent plays because a big rocket go up means stock go up. This logic has never failed except for every time it's been tested. The rocket costs billions to develop. It generates zero revenue. But sure, let's calculate a price target based on vibes and a YouTube live stream.
The launch window opens early Monday from Boca Chica. If it works, Musk will tweet something about Mars. If it explodes, Musk will tweet something about Mars. Either way, someone in Florida will open a RobinHood account and buy call options on companies that don't manufacture rocket parts.
Forty years from now your grandkids will ask why you're poor and you'll explain you bet the mortgage on space tourism stocks because a shiny cylinder achieved low Earth orbit once.
Photo by on Unsplash
Leave a Comment