Now I’m gonna come to the shit part about A2: It isn’t easy and it only gets harder. A2 is not a spectator sport, but neither is apocalypse. To succeed with both, you must have skin in the game, and you must get over that you will get hurt. And it fucking hurts. A lot. But here’s the thing: In A2, you come to revere Nature, and so come to revere anguish and suffering: for it is only in turning into and in-to these, delving in the very heat of what haunts you, becoming it entirely from the inside out, and discovering the obvious— that this was always you— that discover true awakening and master your form through that such that your awaken to your native power.

In A2, you attach yourself to emotions differently: You become a scientist with yourself, and when you do, you discover that play and games are more rewarding and offer you greater revelation, faculty, and agency than work and burden, and any cheap epiphany cast off by Oprah or Doctor Oz or some other dime self-help whore of Babylon. 

A2 is hard as hell, and its exhausting. It is a miserable affair to bare alone. 

But it’s fucking fun as hell, and the rewards are staggering. For as you travel the world Awakened to Awakening, you cast eddies in the world you didn’t before, and in those ripples true miracles happen and bless those around you— without you having to do anything at all. This, friends, is consequence of one of the discoveries A2 will reveal to you: that you are done vastly more than you ever think you do. It in this flow of being done that, by harmonizing ourselves to it through A2, we master our catalysis in full, erupt into co-cognition with each other and the planet, and so awaken the Gaian mind at last.

There can be no greater reward, and the cost is nothing in comparison to the cost of our losses if we do not act at all.

Elon Musk consistently posts astonishingly abysmal and embarrassing quarterly losses that each in turn could the feed the world’s poor well for a century. 

Here make a bet: That I accomplish vastly more world changing good one quarter’s losses from Musk’s self-congratulatory masturbatory adventures than Musk can himself. My wager? Give me a billion, and the benefit I promise to give humanity will multiply that investment billion-fold. 

Understand: I will draw salary enough to see to it that my and Max’s modest needs are met; the rest of the Institute’s funds go to hiring as many talented, powerful heroes as possible and to get us all to you to the job done as swiftly as possible.

The is not to be an indefinite engagement. When our work is done, we are done. Period.

I make you this pledge now: gift the Institute with just a billion dollars and I win you the world within the year— without burning a single rocket, let alone pissing away billions of investor dollars quarter after quarter in self-congratulation at the myth of my genius I’ve persuaded the world to accept of stammering meathead me.

Truth be told, I do everything in my power to stretch a million to accomplish the same. Money isn’t my goal; saving your children is. I’m gonna do whatever I can to attain that. I already have. And it’s cost me everything. And I’m going to keep doing it.

Elon: I’ve got your number and I’m calling you out, boy.