SpaceX is oversubscribed by 2x, but I don’t dare to buy: what you’re buying isn’t a rocket—it’s Musk’s “personal NFT”

$150 billion in demand, only $75 billion raised.

2x oversubscription. Wall Street is frantically fighting over SpaceX’s IPO shares—just like how you rushed into Dogecoin back then.

Musk has won again. This time, he issued himself 1.3 billion Class B super-voting shares, currently worth $175 billion. If in the future SpaceX accomplishes its crazy goals of “a $7.5 trillion market cap + Mars colonization + a hundred terawatt data centers,” his personal compensation could reach up to $1.1 trillion.

$1.1 trillion. What does that even mean? It’s higher than the entire market cap of Bitcoin.

But don’t rush to FOMO just yet.

The twist is coming—all the numbers above have nothing to do with you.

Because SpaceX will operate as a “controlled publicly listed company.” Put into plain language: ordinary shareholders don’t enjoy standard governance protections.

You don’t have voting rights. You can’t question management. You can’t object to Musk using company money to blow up rockets, post on Twitter, or even buy another Twitter.

The only thing you can do is pull out your money—and then keep quiet.

“You think you’re investing in SpaceX? No—you’re just tipping Musk’s personal vision—and you can’t get a refund.”

So here’s the question: in a $1.75 trillion valuation, how much is based on SpaceX’s business fundamentals, and how much is Musk’s personal premium?

Let’s break it down.

Business fundamentals: Starlink, commercial launches, NASA contracts. These are very impressive, but at most they only justify a valuation of $500–800 billion. The remaining $1 trillion is all “Musk premium.”

What is this premium? It’s his ability to talk up Mars colonization, the magic that makes retail investors willing to pay for a concept drawing, and the cult-like vibe that lets him pump the stock just by posting 🐶 on Twitter.

To put it bluntly:

In SpaceX’s valuation, at least half is meme value.

A gut punch moment for crypto players:

You’ve been chasing low-cap dog coins and animal coins every day, thinking it’s pure speculation. But look at SpaceX—2x oversubscribed, institutions lining up to send money—yet what they’re buying is a “public company” with no governance rights, no dividend promises, and wholly dependent on Musk’s mood.

What difference is there from buying a dog coin contract that hasn’t been audited, with an anonymous team?

There’s only one difference: with dog coins, you at least know you’re gambling. But people buying SpaceX—wearing suits and ties—are telling themselves, “I’m doing value investing.”

“In the crypto world, retail investors charging into dog coins is out-in-the-open gambling; Wall Street buying SpaceX is shadow gambling—the only difference is the tie versus slippers.”

The final truth:

Musk’s move this time is arguably the top-tier “personal brand cash-out” in human financial history. He packaged his persona, his vision, and his influence on Twitter—all into SpaceX’s valuation.

Oversubscribed by 2x isn’t because SpaceX is too excellent; it’s because the world’s faith in Musk the person has swollen to an unmanageable point—nowhere left to go.

But whether you believe it or not, after the IPO’s first-day surge, those well-dressed institutions will quietly sell, then turn around and scold Musk on Twitter for “not focusing on his main business.”

And the real ones left holding the bag will always be the last group of retail investors, moved by the “stars and sea” story at the end.

If you really want to bet on Musk, you might as well buy his meme coins on-chain—at least that stuff makes it an open secret that it’s just air, and it won’t make you sign a “sell-your-own-dealership contract” that gives up all shareholder rights. #分享美股交易赢英伟达股票 #预测NBA总冠军赢20,000U $GT $BTC $ETH