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“This time next year, Shrey... we'll all be millionaires!”
(Sorry, HAGD, couldn't resist).
Like a three day old helium balloon, Paul's head sank slowly into his hands. He sighed, inhaled deeply, then peered from between open fingers at the monitor on his desk. “Bladdy ****, toss and faat!” (fart: as in windy-pops). He slammed his fist onto the desk and shot to his feet. His chair careered backwards; the headrest head-butting the opposite wall, then he stamped towards the open door and grumbled out into the corridor.
At the end of the corridor, Nick DiFiore slipped a tall disposable cup into the gaping mouth of the new office coffee machine. “Hey, bud!” He motioned towards the CEO as he approached, “What's the storm?”
Paul came to an abrupt halt by the hissing drinks dispenser and tensioned his lips into a thin white line. Unblinking, he stared straight ahead, eventually acknowledging Nick by puffing, “It's our bladdy shay proice, mayt! All these bladdy RNS releases I've fired out and …. nuthin'. Hasn't added a single bladdy cent.” He spun on a heel and slammed a fist into the sheet-metal flank of the coffee machine. “****! Toss! Faat!”
“What... you mean...” several horizontal creases now appeared on Nick's bald forehead as, like an expert pick-pocket, he slid the large cup from the coffee machine's grasp, “... you mean - inclooding the one about the buy-out bid!?” He took a sip from the cup then winced, hissing, “Jeez! This stuff's hot as bladdy magma!”
“Yip!” Paul's lower lip trembled. “Inclooding that one.”
“Really!” Nick ran the tip of his tongue along his top lip, then took a step towards his boss and peered into his face, “Something loike... loike that... and it didn't move the shay proice!” He shook his head, raised his cup to his lips and took a huge slug. Instantaneously, he sprayed the boiling liquid onto the carpet, “Jeez!” He sucked in several gulps of cool air then extended his tongue and began panting like a bald labrador. “Well... (pant)... well what about all the... (pant)... Ford... (pant, pant)... stuff?”
“Nope!” Paul's eyes began to glisten. “That didn't move it either.”
“That's... that's bonkers, mayt!” Nick shook his head. “Oi just don't get it!”
Nick fell silent as he pondered the anomaly of the company's immovable share price. First, he pondered the floor, then he pondered the ceiling, then, once again, he pondered the vacant face of his boss. “Mayt, oi just don't bladdy-well get it!”
After several more seconds of silent pondering, Nick, like a first kiss schoolboy, slowly puckered his lips and began raising his cup for a third time. As the rim of the vessel touched his lower lip, his hand jarred to a halt. The look of terror which swept his face quickly morphed into a knowing smile. He sneered at the cup's steaming contents then carefully lowered it until it had retreated to a safe distance.
Once again, Nick returned his gaze towards his boss, “So... so you're actually telling me nun of those biggie RNSs got eny markit reaction at oll? Oll the Audi stuff... the Tesla stuff... the Japanese stuff... the train stuff and that huge thing with Moycrosoft – we got nuthin'?”
“Nun of them” Paul slowly shook his head as his adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat like the contents of a long-distance runner's shorts. Then, barely audible, he repeated, “Nun... nun of them.”
“That can't be roight, mayt. I guessed by naw we'd be woth at least A$5:47 a shay! (NOTE: a shay proice – a share price – of A$5:47 is equivalent to £3:00 which, strangely enough, is exactly my target price! How weird it that? But anyway...).
Paul's chest heaved. There was a catch in his voice as he croaked, “Me too, mayt. I thought we'd be woth a lot more by naw, too.”
Nick stepped around the CEO, “Hey, there must be something wrong with that new RNS Sending Machine! Let's go take a look.” He gestured to his boss to follow.
Stepping into Paul's office, Nick retrieved the leather upholstered executive chair from the far wall and wheeled it to the desk where the RNS Sending Machine sat. He settled into the chair beside the giant machine, switched it on by pressing a large green button, and placed his coffee cup on the desk. On the machine, a blue light illuminated and its large silver cabinet began to hum. Nick then pressed a large yellow button marked: Compose Yet Another Brilliant RNS, and a green light illuminated. He smiled up at his boss, flexed his fingers then tugged at his shirt sleeves as if he were a magician about to perform an amazing card trick. Then, with his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth, he began typing with one finger: T-E-S-T-I-N-G!
“Royt! Naw, let's see.” Nick examined the third of the machine's three buttons. This one was orange in colour and was also marked with the word: SEND. He hesitated - then pressed the button. A red light immediately began flashing. Nick rocked back in the chair, “Awe! Shoot moy granny!”
Paul hunched over the desk and peered at the flashing light, “Yeh! That's what it does with me every time, too! But that's good, right?”
Nick shook his head, “Naw. Failya loight, mayt!” He began examining the machine. He checked the front, the sides, and the back. Eventually, after crawling under the desk, he reversed back into the office and held up a thin black cable. “Here's the problem, mayt! See, the otha end of this cayble is oll the way up in Landin. So if this end isn't hooked up heah... nothing happens up theah! So every time you've sent a killa RNS, all you did was cause that red failya loight to flash.
Paul ran a hand through his hair, “****, toss and faat, mayt - you're a bladdy genius!”
Nick grinned and threw himself back in the chair, “Not just a pretty face, am I?” He snatched up his steaming coffee cup and took a huge self-congratulatory gulp...
-------------
And that story, dear fellow shareholders, explains exactly what has gone wrong with our newsflow... probably.
Sandy.
Thank you for the updated chart Lewbo.
...we bought a new company van. This one I called Frances: Frances Ford (her predecessor was Vivian the Vauxhall Vivaro).
Anyway, once home, I decided to tackle the dreaded technological challenge of working out how the Bluetooth phone thingy worked. So, sitting in the cabin, I prodded at the information screen and jabbed a few steering wheel buttons.
Well, after getting nowhere for ages, suddenly a very sexy female voice said, “Please say a command.”
I blinked, wide-eyed; I'd never had a lady van speak to me before. “Ooh!” says I, “Hello!”
Frances said she didn't understand my command, then she explained what I could ask her.
I hesitated, wondering if I was having one of my 'turns' or if I was actually engaged in conversation with a very erotic sounding vehicle. Then Frances repeated her list and, not wanting her to think I was being rude and ignoring her, I blurted out, “Workshop! Call the workshop... please... if you could... and... thanks!”
Next up, she tells me (her voice seemed even more husky now) that she's calling The Workshop!
So the phone begins to ring and – what do you know – looking in through the workshop window I see my other half walk into view and pick up the phone. Inside the cabin I hear, “Hello.” Her voice was clear as a bell!
I hurriedly buzzed down the driver's window, leaned out, waved my arms to get her attention and shouted, “It's Frances on the phone! Isn't she brilliant? And she's got the most incredible voice!”
The telephone line went dead. My other half mouthed a single word through the glass (thankfully, I can't lip-read), then turned and disappeared from view.
I slumped back in my seat and pondered the situation for a few seconds, then I had an idea – an idea that would really improve my day. I hurriedly prodded Frances' telephone button again, and that wonderfully husky voice asked what I wanted to do. My heart began to pound and I could feel my pulse surging into my head. She really sounded so... so incredibly hot!
“I don't want you to do anything Frances. I just need you to talk to me for a bit. Oh, and by-the-way, those new cameras that let you watch what the driver's fiddling with – please tell me you don't have one of them fitted...”
With regard to Aviation, after the inappropriate use of the word imminent some months ago when commenting on news/revenues for this sector, I was intrigued to hear our CEO utter the phrase: “We're very close to decent revenues,” (10:55 mins into video) when once again referring to this sector.
Now, the CEO is well aware of how his shareholders feel about his previous 'imminent' slip-up, so I'm very curious as to how to interpret the phrase, 'Very close.”
Surely there's no way he'd ever go there again and banana-skin the same gaff twice... so just how close is, “Very close,”? Is it close, very close or could it be... (dare I say) imminent?
Mr Brown walks into the Seeing Machines boardroom. He carries a very large, leather bound book. He stops at the head of the table then slowly raises his gaze; silently examining the staring faces.
“This is the rule book!” He displays the front cover to the gathered executives. The title reads: How to Play the AIM Game.
“Right, let's get started!”
So sorry to hear your news Pdub. You've been here for as long as I can remember. Best wishes to you and yours.
Sandy.
Hi Terry,
With regard to your trip to CES, considering the Veoneer test fleet were all Volvos - with our man Nick involved in demonstrating (anyone new here, that's quite an important little snippet – hint, hint, wink, wink), I'm thinking it would be odd if Polestar were to use a completely different DMS supplier – although, granted, it's not out of the question. But considering a Polestar is 'just' a fancy Volvo, surely the logical DMS supplier is a company you and I (and a few others) know quite well.
As I can't remember the details of your CES visit, do you have any more details on Volvo/Geely/Polestar?
Best,
Sandy.
This is a story penned a while back. Is there a moral in the tale for we grown-ups? Or is it just something to tell the kids?
------------
Cornflake was always delighted when winter eventually softened into spring. Spring meant sweeter grass, warmer air and, most importantly, the return of his swallows.
The same two swallows returned every year, and Cornflake loved when these elegant birds swooped back into his barn and set about building their nest. They brought with them stories of exotic creatures like lions, elephants and vast plains full of antelope and wildebeest. He would often stay awake late into the night listening to them chatter about their great adventures and the incredible sights they'd seen.
After a few summers, he realised that although the swallows always had lots of interesting things to tell him - he never had anything interesting to tell them. He never went anywhere or did anything - except posing for tourists down by the loch where Emily lived. On his hillside, nothing exciting ever happened.
One night when he and Emily were down by the loch watching the stars, he told her about his worries: how the swallows returned each year with their fabulous stories of incredible animals and all he had to tell them was that they'd missed one-hundred-and-sixty-two days of really miserable weather.
Emily eased her gaze from the moon and looked down at her friend, “Cornflake, those swallows enjoy your company because of who you are: a kind and gentle Highland bull.”
Cornflake sighed, “But last night they told me about this incredible big cat called a cheetah; a cat that can run faster than the wind. It was another story about a truly amazing creature!”
Emily shuffled closer to her friend, “Look, there's no point in the swallows collecting all those wonderful stories if, when they return home, there's no one in the barn to listen to them.
The bull gazed up at his friend through his tangle of red hair, “But Emily, I so wish I had at least one really good story to tell.
Emily sighed gently and moved down the narrow shingle beach. She waded into the water until it reached the long curve of her neck, then she paused and looked back. “See you tomorrow night.” Then, with a huge swirl, she disappeared silently down into the blackness of the loch.
Cornflake puffed, “See you tomorrow Em',” then he turned and wandered towards home, wishing upon wish that he could think of something interesting to tell the swallows.
JC,
This is why I mentioned our failed tie-up with Samsung in Q is fro Qualcomm. Qualcomm now have the ability to fit eye-tracking into any device! Now, that WOULD be handy to 'someone's' bottom line.
Speaking of companies which have a world-wide reach, the other day the name Qualcomm popped up again (thank you for the mind prod 2020). I, like every other genuine investor here, was chuffed to bits to hear of our tie-up with an outfit like this (I'd never heard of Qualcomm prior to the RNS). But how many of us gave any real thought as to how big a deal this could be? For that you have to take a closer look at what makes a company like Qualcomm tick. So let me drag you back there with some thoughts on that company.
These dudes don't mess; their technology is everywhere. As they say, it's 'under the bonnet', hence their low public profile, but it's in the electronics we use every day. If you visit the second link below, it will take you to their Changing an Industry page (auto division). Now, having read that (and also having scanned their Wiki page - worth a look), whose software did Qualcomm consider the one worthy enough to fit with their own? With their insistence on being the best, simplest and easiest means of offering OEMs a scalable, upgradable, low cost, high performance ADAS – whose technology did they choose?
The fact that such a company chose our DMS should be ringing any potential investor's bell, as well as bringing we who are already invested here great comfort. The fact they chose us points to Seeing Machines being an incredibly investable proposition. And, quite importantly, just as we have a number of different industries in which our tech will/is benefiting us, Qualcomm also have a number of areas where our tech could be valuable to them (I'm now thinking back to our Samsung deal that never was – but now with a smile on my face). So there's that bell ringing again, Double Whammy, anyone?
https://www.qualcomm.com/company/about
Interestingly, our last RNS brought us our Funded to Profitability cash. But, if you remember our CEO mentioning he was working on a number of such royalty deals, obviously there are more to come. One of which has to be a biggie with Qualcomm. Follow and read the information in the link below, then ask yourself what would be the simplest way to make such a complex marriage between Seeing Machines, Qualcomm and OEMs work?
As Anshuman Saxena of Qualcomm says: “Through our work with Seeing Machines to efficiently integrate DMS [into Qualcomm's technology], we are facilitating a streamlined and optimal solution for automakers.”
What's being commented on here is Qualcomm's ability to supply ANY manufacturer with a 'box of tricks' at any level of complexity. It's easily programmable, quickly scalable and upgradable, and it's called their Snapdragon Ride Platform. And it's not until you investigate how that platform functions that you realise why they needed to harness the best eye-tracking technology available: our Fovio chip.
https://www.qualcomm.com/news/onq/2020/01/06/part-1-changing-industry-changing-how-we-drive
On reading the above (remember, there's also a link to part two at the end of the first part), there's mention of Tesla's autopilot. Autopilot being mentioned points to Qualcomm being involved with that technology (anyone out there know more on this subject?). So if Qualcomm are involved, they will be well aware of autopilot's problems. They will also be aware of the need for a much safer DMS solution when they roll out anything similar to other, less stubborn, manufacturers. Especially if you note the following extract from the above link:
'Tier 1s are responsible for integrating the full system, solving complex safety problems and in some cases, undertaking liability'.
So now think of the world auto market (I'm thinking of the American market in particular). Now consider what the word liability means if your tech is proven as the cause of a road traffic accident/death. As previously mentioned, that's why Qualcomm must have access to our technology: it's well proven and is functioning beautifully in real time on real roads and, as such, with so much at stake, why would they go for anything other than the best DMS they can lay their hands on (and, although this might sound like an advert for a Star Trek movie, there's now a wee voice inside my head shouting, “Supercruise: The Next Generation!”).
So the list of reasons for being invested in Seeing Machines is growing, and it completely outweighs the reasons not to be here. Yes, I'm very well aware of managements previous failings, and I know how many shares they don't own.
But I also know the range of manufacturers, companies and Tier 1s that Seeing Machines ARE working with (thanks to Lewbo's chart), and the huge potential from all our other lines of business as well as those pending royalty deals. But if I was asked to point to any one recent deal of particular interest... Q is for QUALCOMM!
Can anyone hear a bell ringing?
Hi 2020,
Thank you, all's well up here. Hoping same with you and yours - and best wishes to all the other stalwarts of this board (yes, including Steve and Baxter).
As we live out in the sticks, there's more roe deer than people around here (perhaps a slight exaggeration), so, as the weather warms, we might have more chance of picking up a tick than the dreaded you-know-what (touching kitchen table).
By the way, I was putting a lot of thought into how to dodge C-19 when we do venture towards civilisation: plastic bag over the head and you're virus proof - surely! (but not one with those little holes in – safety first!). I'll give one a spin next time I near a two metre pinch-point.
P.S. Do Not Try This at Home (I mean: investing in shares).
For anyone new to this board, the reference the guys made earlier to the Veoneer post may sound like, “So what?” However, if you click on the link below (which will take you to Veoneer's CES 2020 video), at just over a minute into the video you will see a baldy-headed guy sitting in one of Veeoner's Volvo demo fleet at this year's CES. He's in the front passenger seat, so is the guy who is demonstrating the car's abilities to potential customers. That is a tiny but very important piece of information – and so is this next bit...
That baldy-headed guy is wearing a jacket emblazoned with a logo which should be of interest to anyone eyeing up Seeing Machines. The man's name is Nick Difiore.
Now, as the saying goes: Do Your Own Research... or should that be: Join The Dots!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcGDlt51kvg
P.S. Nearly forgot... then read (in particular) the second paragraph of Veoneer's press release.
veoneer.com/en/press-releases?page=/press/perma/1796191
Many years ago, despite trying to teach my African grey parrot (psittacanthus erithacus erithacus) to say hello, the first words he ever spoke were, “You're a bad boy!”
Over time, I realised that if you want a bird to 'talk', you have to repeat the word/s with a bit of gusto: emphasise them; make them stand out. Anyway, when Jake sat on my knee of an evening, I'd have to move fast if he showed signs he was about leave a 'deposit' on the carpet. Of course, every now and then I'd be too slow and he'd beat me to it. At times like this I'd scold him (with deep carpet pile emotion) by telling him, “You're a bad boy!”
So there we were, assuming our parrot's first word would be one single word when, in fact, his first word was – a complete sentence!
Now, the only trouble with having taught a bird to mimic you is that there are times when – he just won't shut up! Take this morning, for instance; he was flying all over the place shouting, “Funded to profitability! Funded to profitability!”
To The God of Wishful Thinking
There was a wee man from down under,
Thought the last guy made a terrible blunder,
Not selling many chips,
Pro-voked share price dips,
When PIs start to worry and wonder.
Then off he went to the States,
To a show which his industry rates,
Could hardly believe it real -
Signed a big Qualcomm deal,
Him and Baxter would at last be real mates.
But those NDAs are a pain in the bum,
His bottom line - still a very small sum,
Would the price ever go up?
Or was his computer screen stuck?
Would those free shares ever actually come?
Then one day when incredibly warm,
Breaking news took The Market by storm,
At last we broke out,
There's no further doubt,
A share price at three pounds was the norm.
P.S. Sorry for taking your name in vain (again) Baxter.
There's a mining company I own a small piece of and at first glance you'd never know it's any different from any other junior miner. But this one is a wee bit special. It's special because it's not - as it's name suggests - simply a mining company; it's got a lot more going on than just digging holes. The other thing that makes it special is that it shares something in common with Seeing Machines, in that it, too, is involved in a Disruptive Technology.
A short glance back in time can show how valuable these disruptors can be. For instance, you're reading this via something that not too long ago was a fledgling disruptor: the internet. Then again, if your reading this using your mobile, you've got two disruptive technologies in one: the internet and a compact computer, the 'brain' of which is so powerful that, back in the day, it was what computer geeks could only dream of. But we call this particular computer a phone... with a camera that can also shoot movies! It allows us to shop anywhere in the world, any time, day or night... can tell us where we've been; where we're going... let us watch TV, and... you can speak to it, asking questions - which causes that same small computer to speak to you in reply!
Then there's the real money making disruptors like Facebook, Google, Amazon, etc. I wonder if, like us, the first investors in those early internet creations toyed with what their investments might be worth one day (if you've identified that as a stupid question, I agree)? I'm also guessing that for every one investor in those fledgling businesses there were hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands who thought those guys were nuts. “You're buying shares in a - Search Engine! What the hell's a Search Engine?”
I guess what I'm saying is that early days are never easy days. So what we're enduring now - quite a few have endured before. Our doubters are doubting; our believers are believing; and the guys sitting on the fence don't know if the post they're perched on has been sharpened at the wrong end or if their eyes have always watered that bad. But who here is willing to bail out if there's a possibility that we - like those early investors before us - are about to help ourselves to a large slice of a world market?
Bushveld Minerals, that company who most folk believe are busy digging holes, are actually developing vanadium flow batteries. Basically, these batteries are incredibly efficient at storing power generated from renewables for times when 'the-sun-don't-shine-and-the-wind-don't-blow'... but there's much more to the company's story than that.
Just like Seeing Machines, Bushveld are pushing on with their new technology and, just like us, they've had their hard times. But, to use a well-worn cliché, the writing's on the wall. Our ever curiouser weather is telling us something, and the growing outcry from Joe Public about our climate means when wind and solar energy are in surplus, we desperately need somewhere to store it.
So what about Seeing Machines' investors? What will provoke a similar scale of change for our technology. Well, this time I'm not going to bang on about legislation, Mercedes, BMW, Fleet - any of that. This time the story is even simpler...
Imagine a visitor from another world. He's landed his spaceship (fitted with a low cost, high performance Pilot Monitoring System) in a remote field. He steps out onto the grass (which matches the shade of his scales) and hops off in the direction of a faint rumbling sound.
The sound is much louder now. The alien peers through a hedge and... gasps at the reckless horror before him! There below, the planet's inhabitants are transporting themselves in various sized vehicles. The 'pilots' of these vehicles are of vastly differing ages and vastly differing abilities (ranging from barely competent to terrifying), and they're careering along a pot-holed surface at speed.
The alien's data collector tells him this is an A road, and travelling along it are cars, vans, omnibuses and - juggernauts! These objects weigh from just under one earthling ton up to forty of those soft-bodies-so-easily-squished earthling tons. The vehicles are travelling in two different streams (as a highly intelligent life-form, the alien considers the close proximity of these two streams potentially dangerous... until) - Hell's Bells - they're actually travelling in OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS - only foots apart (alien foots are much smaller than your feet) and the only thing separating these opposing lanes of traffic is - NOTHING!
Now the alien is considering he might be witnessing some sort of mass suicide pact. Because the only thing stopping these ridiculous creatures from DBM (Death by Manglement) is luck! Most of them are fiddling with their phones, some are retuning the radio, fumbling a fag, opening a sandwich, talking animatedly to a companion, swatting an INCREDIBLY A-NNOY-ING FLY! and some are even attempting to drive while asleep!
And THAT, dear fellow investor - what our little green alien friend saw that day - is why the world will buy Seeing Machines' Disruptive Technology - by the forty-ton juggernaut load.
P.S. Oh, and what happened to our visitor from space? Well, he turned white, ran all the way back to his spaceship, slammed the door shut, upped the periscope and gasped (in alienees) to his co-pilot, “Take... take a look... a look at that bunch of farking maniacs! Then, GET-US-THE-HELL-OUT-OF-HERE!”