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Let’s get this straight. A tiny Canadian mining company with five employees, zero revenue, and a history of losing money wakes up one morning to find its stock has exploded over 200%. Why? Because the Pentagon tossed $35 million—basically couch cushion money for them—at it and the President waved a magic wand to approve a controversial 211-mile road through the Alaskan wilderness.
And just like that, Trilogy Metals (TMQ) went from a forgotten micro-cap to a billion-dollar national security darling. The stock chart looks like a goddamn EKG reading during a heart attack. Retail investors, high on the fumes of "critical minerals" and "Made in America," piled in, chasing the price from $2 to over $10 in a week.
The company’s CEO called it a “significant milestone.” Translation: “We just won the lottery.” Everyone involved is patting themselves on the back, talking about securing the future of American industry. It’s a beautiful story. A real patriotic triumph. Except for one tiny, inconvenient detail: the people running the company immediately started dumping their stock.
Follow the Money, Not the Hype
You want to know the real story? Don't read the press releases. Look at the insider trading filings. It’s always the most honest document a company produces.
On October 8th, the day after the stock went supernova, Trilogy’s CFO, Elaine Sanders, sold nearly 450,000 shares for a cool $3 million. The next day, a director, Janice Stairs, dumped over 50,000 shares. In total, insiders cashed out over $6.6 million in stock in the immediate aftermath of the "best news in company history."
This is just a classic pump and dump. No, that’s not right—it’s a government-sponsored pump and dump, which makes it so much worse. The Pentagon provides the pump, and the insiders provide the dump. Are we really supposed to believe that the CFO, who knows the company's financials better than anyone, suddenly decided she needed a few million bucks for a new boat right after this "transformative" deal? Give me a break.
Her actions scream one thing: “This price is insane, and I’m getting out while the getting’s good.”
It’s the oldest trick in the book. The suits get the public all fired up about a story—in this case, the new Cold War with China over copper and cobalt—and then they quietly cash their chips while the little guy is left holding the bag. And I swear, it’s always the same. I get so tired of watching this play out. It’s like being forced to watch the same bad movie over and over, and you’re the only one in the theater who hasn’t memorized the lines. Offcourse, the analysts are no help either, with their “hold” ratings and $5 price targets while the stock is trading at twice that. Useless.
The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions
Let’s not forget what this is all really about: a 211-mile road slicing through what the Sierra Club calls “pristine landscapes that support tribes and wildlife.” For years, this project was blocked. Thirty-eight Alaska Native communities fought it, warning it would destroy caribou migrations and fish habitats that they depend on for, you know, survival.
But who cares about caribou when there’s a “strategic national interest” at stake?
The hypocrisy here is just staggering. We’re told we need all this copper for EV batteries and green energy infrastructure to save the planet. But to get it, we have to tear up one of the last truly wild places on that same planet. The government’s solution? Mandating some “wildlife culverts” for the caribou to pass through. I’m sure that’ll solve everything. It’s like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound.
This whole operation is a perfect metaphor for our times. We’ve become so obsessed with technological solutions and geopolitical chess games that we ignore the actual, physical world we’re destroying in the process. We tell ourselves a story about securing the future while bulldozing the present. And for what? So a handful of executives and hedge fund managers like John Paulson can see their portfolios jump 257%. It ain’t for you or me, that’s for sure.
They call it a “strategic investment”—there’s even a (TMQ) Strategic Investment Report—but really it’s just a signal. The Pentagon didn't buy a mine; they bought a narrative. And it worked perfectly. But what happens when the narrative fades and all that’s left is a money-losing exploration company and a scar across the Alaskan tundra?
It's All Just a Big Club, and You Ain't in It
At the end of the day, this isn't a story about copper or national security. It’s a story about access. A tiny company with the right connections and the right asset at the right time gets the full backing of the U.S. government. Insiders get rich. Big funds get richer. The public gets to buy in at the top, fueled by a patriotic story. And the people who actually live on the land get a road they never asked for. Same as it ever was.
