Channel name was changed to «CSW. 300 Academic Degrees Diplome Certification Qualifications»
I just sat exams for my Juris Doctor degree—advanced evidence, advanced civil structure and law, administrative law, and more.
These aren’t some casual take-home exercises.
They are invigilated exams, with someone standing right there watching over your shoulder, every keystroke recorded, every movement monitored. Yet the line I expect next is that somehow I’ve managed to fit myself with a neural link, and I’ve got @Grok or @ChatGPT feeding me answers in real time while I sit under exam conditions. That’s how absurd your argument has to become.
PS. My style remains consistent.
CSW
SEP 14, 2025
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1967212873576538439?t=fxkd9Oi5QI8QK2KdMQbSRw&s=19
These aren’t some casual take-home exercises.
They are invigilated exams, with someone standing right there watching over your shoulder, every keystroke recorded, every movement monitored. Yet the line I expect next is that somehow I’ve managed to fit myself with a neural link, and I’ve got @Grok or @ChatGPT feeding me answers in real time while I sit under exam conditions. That’s how absurd your argument has to become.
PS. My style remains consistent.
CSW
SEP 14, 2025
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1967212873576538439?t=fxkd9Oi5QI8QK2KdMQbSRw&s=19
S. Tominaga AKA CSW
Sep. 29, 2025
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1972502618158268727?t=7HGKAMcfsyQxn4dNvyLwXg&s=19
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/4776
Sep. 29, 2025
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1972502618158268727?t=7HGKAMcfsyQxn4dNvyLwXg&s=19
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/4776
Just completed my Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and Literature. The Viva is done. The verdict delivered. The unwind achieved. It was an American university, which means the clock now reads somewhere between exhaustion and tomorrow. I’m going back to bed before dawn decides to mock me.
Result: A-plus. Feedback: “You need to write every day for the rest of your life. You are a truly gifted writer, and we look forward to what you end up creating in the future.”
Nice words. Dangerous words. The kind that ruin any chance of quitting later.
And before anyone chirps about AI: try doing a Viva — a real, verbal defence — with ChatGPT open beside you, not writing for you. Real time. Real brain. Welcome to reality, people. Machines imitate; they don’t understand.
Next up: medical science. Because apparently I collect degrees now.
Need sleep. The kind that doesn’t come with footnotes.
I hope...
S. Tominaga AKA CSW
Oct. 13, 2025
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1977803949999854043?t=3P4ZwrmjxxTPOVtrGdp25A&s=19
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/4824
Result: A-plus. Feedback: “You need to write every day for the rest of your life. You are a truly gifted writer, and we look forward to what you end up creating in the future.”
Nice words. Dangerous words. The kind that ruin any chance of quitting later.
And before anyone chirps about AI: try doing a Viva — a real, verbal defence — with ChatGPT open beside you, not writing for you. Real time. Real brain. Welcome to reality, people. Machines imitate; they don’t understand.
Next up: medical science. Because apparently I collect degrees now.
Need sleep. The kind that doesn’t come with footnotes.
I hope...
S. Tominaga AKA CSW
Oct. 13, 2025
https://x.com/CsTominaga/status/1977803949999854043?t=3P4ZwrmjxxTPOVtrGdp25A&s=19
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/4824
❤1
How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the em-dash.
One day the postman shows up like he’s delivering a cease-and-desist from God, and in his hands is this ornate Liberty University parchment announcing I’ve now got an M.F.A. in Creative Writing. An M.F.A. new letter to hang around my neck like a medal or a millstone, depending on how much coffee has hit the bloodstream.
Naturally, the world expects the usual performance: modest nod, grateful smile, a quick genuflection to the altar of credentialism. But after a few decades of watching academia inflate titles the way children inflate balloons before letting them squeal around the room, I’ve learned to treat letters the way a good engineer treats noise: measure it, filter it, and don’t confuse it with signal.
Still, I’ll admit there was a moment. A small, quiet, suspicious moment. The kind where you stare at the thing and think: right then, so this is what it looks like when a university says “congratulations” instead of “revise and resubmit until the heat death of the sun.” And then, like poor Dr Strangelove, I felt the involuntary grin crawl across the face. Not because I’ve joined the priesthood of creative writing, but because the whole affair is so beautifully absurd.
There’s a particular species of critic who believes creative work only becomes real when a committee in robes says so. Another species believes any committee in robes is proof the work has been domesticated. Both are wrong in the same way a man is wrong when he thinks a map is the territory. The map can be useful.
The territory still bites.
So yes, I’ve got an MFA now. I’m told it stands for Master of Fine Arts, which is already funny because art isn’t mastered in the way plumbing is mastered, and anyone who says otherwise has either never made art or never met a pipe. But fine: call it a master’s degree. I’ll call it what it is — a formal note that I can write, I have written, and I will keep writing whether or not anyone stamps it.
And that’s the trick, isn’t it. Not the letter. The learning to love the bomb. The bomb in this case being the thing I’ve always used anyway: craft, discipline, the slow ugly labour of putting a thought into words and making it stand up straight. I stopped worrying about whether I was “allowed” to do it years ago. I certainly won’t start now.
If the MFA means anything, it means this: the paperwork caught up with the practice. The seal arrived after the engine was already running. And if someone wants to treat that as a cue to sneer, or worship, or mistake it for a personality, they can. The rest of us have work to do.
S. Tominaga, AKA CSW
Dic. 8, 2025
https://x.com/i/status/1997982236818489644
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/5115
One day the postman shows up like he’s delivering a cease-and-desist from God, and in his hands is this ornate Liberty University parchment announcing I’ve now got an M.F.A. in Creative Writing. An M.F.A. new letter to hang around my neck like a medal or a millstone, depending on how much coffee has hit the bloodstream.
Naturally, the world expects the usual performance: modest nod, grateful smile, a quick genuflection to the altar of credentialism. But after a few decades of watching academia inflate titles the way children inflate balloons before letting them squeal around the room, I’ve learned to treat letters the way a good engineer treats noise: measure it, filter it, and don’t confuse it with signal.
Still, I’ll admit there was a moment. A small, quiet, suspicious moment. The kind where you stare at the thing and think: right then, so this is what it looks like when a university says “congratulations” instead of “revise and resubmit until the heat death of the sun.” And then, like poor Dr Strangelove, I felt the involuntary grin crawl across the face. Not because I’ve joined the priesthood of creative writing, but because the whole affair is so beautifully absurd.
There’s a particular species of critic who believes creative work only becomes real when a committee in robes says so. Another species believes any committee in robes is proof the work has been domesticated. Both are wrong in the same way a man is wrong when he thinks a map is the territory. The map can be useful.
The territory still bites.
So yes, I’ve got an MFA now. I’m told it stands for Master of Fine Arts, which is already funny because art isn’t mastered in the way plumbing is mastered, and anyone who says otherwise has either never made art or never met a pipe. But fine: call it a master’s degree. I’ll call it what it is — a formal note that I can write, I have written, and I will keep writing whether or not anyone stamps it.
And that’s the trick, isn’t it. Not the letter. The learning to love the bomb. The bomb in this case being the thing I’ve always used anyway: craft, discipline, the slow ugly labour of putting a thought into words and making it stand up straight. I stopped worrying about whether I was “allowed” to do it years ago. I certainly won’t start now.
If the MFA means anything, it means this: the paperwork caught up with the practice. The seal arrived after the engine was already running. And if someone wants to treat that as a cue to sneer, or worship, or mistake it for a personality, they can. The rest of us have work to do.
S. Tominaga, AKA CSW
Dic. 8, 2025
https://x.com/i/status/1997982236818489644
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/5115
El año que viene empiezo mi octavo doctorado. También tengo veinticinco maestrías. Eres tú quien insiste en que "uso IA", no porque lo hayas demostrado, sino porque te disgusta mi forma de escribir.
Tengo una maestría en filosofía. Eso me ayuda a desarrollar argumentos estructurados, no a crear ambiente. También tengo una maestría en bellas artes en escritura creativa. Eso me ayuda a desarrollar estilo, no incoherencia. Sé exactamente cómo escribo y lo hago deliberadamente.
Lo que haces no es crítica. Es ad hominem. Atacas la autoría porque no puedes atacar la sustancia. Si crees que una afirmación es incorrecta, cítala, indica el error y explica por qué. Si solo tienes "esto suena a IA", entonces no tienes argumento; tienes un límite.
S. Tominaga, también conocido como CSW
Dic. 25 de febrero de 2025
https://x.com/i/status/2004102313422868776
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/5157
Tengo una maestría en filosofía. Eso me ayuda a desarrollar argumentos estructurados, no a crear ambiente. También tengo una maestría en bellas artes en escritura creativa. Eso me ayuda a desarrollar estilo, no incoherencia. Sé exactamente cómo escribo y lo hago deliberadamente.
Lo que haces no es crítica. Es ad hominem. Atacas la autoría porque no puedes atacar la sustancia. Si crees que una afirmación es incorrecta, cítala, indica el error y explica por qué. Si solo tienes "esto suena a IA", entonces no tienes argumento; tienes un límite.
S. Tominaga, también conocido como CSW
Dic. 25 de febrero de 2025
https://x.com/i/status/2004102313422868776
https://t.me/S_Tominaga/5157
X (formerly Twitter)
S Tominaga (Aka Dr Craig Wright) (@CsTominaga) on X
@John_Salisbury @GorillaSun2036 @WadeTPaton Next year I start my eighth doctorate. I also hold twenty-five master’s degrees. You’re the one repeatedly claiming I’m “using AI,” not because you’ve demonstrated it, but because you dislike the way I write.
I…
I…
Channel name was changed to «CSW. 300 Academic Degrees Diplome Certification Qualifications doctor title»
I have a master’s degree in political science, a master’s degree in geography with a 4.0 GPA, a PhD in law, a PhD in economics, a master’s degree in finance, a master’s degree in econometrics, a master’s degree in statistics, a master’s degree in history, and enough formal education to occupy a small shelf of university registrars.
Yet every week a man armed with an infographic and a grievance arrives to explain economics to me.
One must admire the courage.
It takes a special sort of confidence to discover a chart showing the long-term decline in the purchasing power of a currency and imagine one has thereby solved monetary economics, public finance, demography, political history, labour markets, capital formation, fiscal policy, sovereign debt, and economic growth.
The medieval alchemists at least had the decency to admit they were searching for answers.
The modern internet economist finds a picture on social media and concludes he has already found them.
The truly amusing part is not that these people are wrong. Everyone is wrong from time to time. The amusing part is that they believe a century of economic history can be reduced to a single line on a graph and a slogan about money printing.
After a while, one begins to suspect they are not studying economics at all. They are collecting comforting stories.
And then they wonder why people who have actually spent decades studying these subjects are less impressed by an infographic than they are.
https://x.com/i/status/2063859011376808278
Jun 8, 2026
https://t.me/CSW_Academic/476
Yet every week a man armed with an infographic and a grievance arrives to explain economics to me.
One must admire the courage.
It takes a special sort of confidence to discover a chart showing the long-term decline in the purchasing power of a currency and imagine one has thereby solved monetary economics, public finance, demography, political history, labour markets, capital formation, fiscal policy, sovereign debt, and economic growth.
The medieval alchemists at least had the decency to admit they were searching for answers.
The modern internet economist finds a picture on social media and concludes he has already found them.
The truly amusing part is not that these people are wrong. Everyone is wrong from time to time. The amusing part is that they believe a century of economic history can be reduced to a single line on a graph and a slogan about money printing.
After a while, one begins to suspect they are not studying economics at all. They are collecting comforting stories.
And then they wonder why people who have actually spent decades studying these subjects are less impressed by an infographic than they are.
https://x.com/i/status/2063859011376808278
Jun 8, 2026
https://t.me/CSW_Academic/476
😁1
Channel name was changed to «CSW. 300 Academic Degrees Diplome Certification Qualifications doctor title masters»