No one’s really given me a hard time, but then I don’t really sit there and Google my name and see what people are talking about. But I think it would be kind of ridiculous. The whole concept of the record is that identity is fluid and that you can be any character that you want, you can be whatever person you want—it doesn’t matter what your human vessel says to the rest of the world. The message that your human vessel is sending doesn’t have to completely define you. Like you can be anything you want internally, so you can accept that as reality. It doesn’t have to be like, “Oh, I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body” or “I’m a woman trapped in a man’s body” or “I’m a Creole trapped in an alligator’s body.” I sort of accepted the chaos of my reality, and inside that chaos, anything goes.
Though both Grossman and Kurzweil respect science, their approach is necessarily improvisational. If a therapy has some scientific promise and little risk, they’ll try it. Kurzweil gets phosphatidylcholine intravenously, on the theory that this will rejuvenate all his body’s tissues. He takes DHEA and testosterone. Both men use special filters to produce alkaline water, which they drink between meals in the hope that negatively charged ions in the water will scavenge free radicals and produce a variety of health benefits. This kind of thing may seem like quackery, especially when promoted by various New Age outfits touting the “pH miracle of living.” Kurzweil and Grossman justify it not so much with scientific citations — though they have a few — but with a tinkerer’s shrug. “Life is not a randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled study,” Grossman explains. “We don’t have that luxury. We are operating with incomplete information. The best we can do is experiment with ourselves.”
To press his case, Kurzweil is writing and producing an autobiographical movie, with walk-ons by Alan Dershowitz and Tony Robbins. Kurzweil appears in two guises, as himself and as an intelligent computer named Ramona, played by an actress. Ramona has long been the inventor’s virtual alter ego and the expression of his most personal goals. “Women are more interesting than men,” he says, “and if it’s more interesting to be with a woman, it is probably more interesting to be a woman.” He hopes one day to bring Ramona to life, and to have genuine human experiences, both with her and as her. Kurzweil has been married for 32 years to his wife, Sonya Kurzweil. They have two children — one at Stanford University, one at Harvard Business School. “I don’t necessarily only want to be Ramona,” he says. “It’s not necessarily about gender confusion, it’s just about freedom to express yourself.”
