I could use a new garden shed.
No need to guess which offer makes the most pragmatic sense, hmm?
Seriously, I do not understand the adulation which Aleister Crowley attracts. He died a drug addict and alcoholic, and his only income came via donations from his supporters, thus demonstrating that he had not mastered the art of looking after himself - physically or financially. I can see no reason to applaud self-proclaimed occultists who can't even summon the skill to pay their own bills.
Crowley was supposed to have been rather good at climbing mountains and playing chess but otherwise left behind a trail of disasters for other people to deal with. He penned a number of mostly self-published books and wrote flowery, verbose poetry, and certainly he daubed colours on canvas and walls alike - though sorry, darlings, his paintings are abysmal, as was his penchant for defecating on a host's carpet.
I am fond of the Thoth tarot which he designed, however, and I've used my copy for more years than I care to admit to. Someone else painted the originals for him, of course.
Since his death an entire religion has sprung up around his writings, though this seems to have more in common with Rosicrucianism than Crowley's own If-It-Moves-Bonk-It-Under-Will philosophy.
Still, someone may well stump up the 1.2 million for his old Cefalu hang-out. With suitable renovation it might make a profitable holiday home for believers.