"I will tell you about the best book ever written. It's the book of thoughts that you write to yourself. It's clear. It does not need an introduction; it does not need a preface. It does not need footnotes. It is yours. It is the poem that sings out in your heart and awakens the joy. That is the greatest poem ever—joy. And it is your poem, an expression to yourself. That is the ultimate gift.

So now the "ultimate gift" premies are supposed to give M credit for is, by extension, not only their breath, their joy, but even "the book of thoughts you write to yourself".

And yet the claim is that M's message has never changed.

I thought it was silly enough to let him go on claiming that the "gift" of breath (owed primarily to one's parents, and, should you be a believer, God) was a gift that somehow indebted premies to him. But no, that's not enough. Now it's their own joy, and even their own thoughts that are somehow a "gift".