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Mad Bitcoins · 9,481 pieces · Aug 2022 – Mar 2025
Cross-collection essay

Threads That Run Through Everything

Threads That Run Through Everything

Once you have seen the eleven collections separately, the next move is to see what they share. The archive's recurring motifs are not the ones the table of contents announces. They are subtler, and they cross the boundary between collections in ways that make the boundaries themselves feel arbitrary.

The fly goggles are the first thread. Two hundred and seventy-one images feature them. They appear on the White Rabbit, on the Mad Hatter, on James Bond, on Spock, on a bull, on Mad Bitcoins himself. They are the archive's only piece of transferable equipment — every figure who matters is eligible to wear them. They are the visual indicator of initiation into the order Thomas is building. Whatever religion is being smuggled into this body of work, the fly goggles are its sacrament.

The top hat is the second thread. Two hundred and twenty-five appearances, often paired with the goggles. Bond wears it. The Hatter wears it (his name is in it). A bull wears it. Spock wears it. A man at a card table wears it. The top hat is signal — a costume signaling status, the formal-dress of an order that takes itself seriously. The combination top hat + fly goggles is the archive's full uniform. Wear both and you are inside.

The samurai is the third thread, and the most strictly bounded. One hundred and sixty-two images, mostly raccoons. The samurai uniform indicates combat readiness — the figure is at war on behalf of the order. The Mad Hatter never appears as a samurai. James Bond never appears as a samurai. The samurai is for the raccoon and for Mickey, the mascot-class figures rather than the initiate-class figures. There is a vocabulary here that the archive enforces without announcing.

The bitcoin logo runs everywhere — three thousand and seventy-six images touch it — but it is not always doing the same job. In the Capitol Burns cycle it is replacement insignia, displacing the federal eagle. In the Iron Bulls cycle it is brand mark, welded onto the flank like a corporate sponsor. In the Cubist Skylines it is absent — the cycle pointedly refuses the logo. In the Raccoon Bestiary it is implied but rarely overlaid. The logo's behavior across cycles tells you what Thomas thinks the cycle is for. Where the logo is present, the cycle is rhetorical. Where the logo is absent, the cycle is meditative.

Propaganda style runs through four collections — the Rabbit Hole (Mad Hatter Obey posters), the Capitol Burns (postcards and seals), Satan Smoking Weed (Soviet posters), and parts of the Iron Bulls. The visual signature is high-contrast block color, axial composition, a centered figure facing the citizen. Once you have learned to see it you cannot unsee it. The archive trusts propaganda aesthetics. It does not feel about them the way a 21st-century museum would feel about them. They are tools.

Cyberpunk and Tron are the fifth thread, running through the Mickey Inversion, the Rabbit Hole (cyberpunk James Bond), and a portion of the Raccoon Bestiary. Cyberpunk is the default future-style in the archive. Synthwave shows up too, but cyberpunk dominates. The reason is partial: cyberpunk is a 1980s genre about late-stage capitalism plus computers, and an artist working in bitcoin commentary has obvious reasons to reach for it. The deeper reason is that cyberpunk supplies neon-on-black lighting, which makes any figure look initiated. The fly goggles, the top hat, the bitcoin logo, the samurai armor — all read more authoritative under neon than under daylight.

The moon appears in 209 images, and not always with raccoons. There is Jim Morrison giving a concert on the moon. Mark Twain touring the moon in the style of Soviet propaganda. Donald Trump ice skating on the moon. McDonald's restaurant on the moon. The moon is the archive's stage of transcendence — wherever the artist wants to place a figure beyond their normal context, he places them on the moon. The moon images are the archive's epilogues. They depict what happens to the figure after their earthly business is concluded.

Hand-drawn line work is the seventh thread — the Evolutionary Diagrams cycle, but also the pencil art and line drawing runs scattered through other collections (the star wars black and white pencil comic book art run, for instance, or the escher line drawings of evolution). The line-work mode is the archive's contemplative register. When Thomas wants the image to feel considered rather than declaimed, he asks for line.

Black and white photography, by contrast, is the archive's journalistic register. The 1950s street style photo of green lawns and picket fences run sits in this register. So does the street style photo of Howard Stern dressed as Superman. So does the guy in fedora hat with obnoxious large aviator glasses run. When the prompt invokes street style photo the archive shifts into a different relationship with its subject — observational rather than mythologizing. The figure is treated as something encountered rather than something generated. The shift in register is among the archive's quieter discoveries.

The single repeated frame is the structural thread. Across collections, Thomas does not modify a successful prompt — he repeats it. Eighty identical speedracer raccoon prompts. Forty-five identical techno mickey prompts. Sixty-nine identical line drawings of evolution prompts. This is unusual practice for AI-art generation, where the dominant style is prompt revision. Thomas instead lets the model produce variations of a fixed brief. The result is that his cycles read more like editions than like experiments. He is acting like a printmaker pulling fifty proofs of the same plate, looking for the one with the right ink, rather than like a writer rewriting a sentence.

The thread that ties all of the others together: Thomas is building a vocabulary. The fly goggles, the top hat, the bitcoin logo, the samurai armor, the cubist plane, the propaganda axis, the neon underlight, the moon-as-stage — these are the words of his visual language. The collections are sentences assembled from those words. Read as language, the archive is what it appears to be when read carefully: someone learning to speak.