Bitcoin Magazine

What Is Worth Preserving: Rupture on Remains, Decay, and the Collector’s Dilemma

In 1915, Kazimir Malevich hung a black square on a gallery wall and called it the zero point of painting – the end of the image, presented as an image. A little over a century later, the black square returns in Remains, but this time as consequence rather than statement. If the collector of one of these works by artist Rupture does nothing, the on-chain response is to produce the black square for them, one pixel at a time, one block at a time, until nothing is left of the image.

Remains is a series of four hybrid works in which a painting and a related ordinal are structurally bound. Each inscription contains exactly 210,000 pixels – the number of blocks mined in a bitcoin halving epoch. Beginning at the next halving in April 2028, the inscription begins to decay in real time: one pixel dies for every block the network mines. The only way to stop it is hidden beneath the surface of the physical painting – a unique alphanumeric code, retrievable only by destroying a meaningful portion of the work, which must then be inscribed as a “child” of the ordinal to permanently halt the decay. Preserve the painting, and the image on the blockchain is consumed. Save the inscription, and the painting is wounded forever. The collector cannot remain passive. Inaction is itself a choice, and the Bitcoin blockchain makes both outcomes permanent.

Art history is full of destruction deployed as a gesture. Robert Rauschenberg erased a de Kooning drawing in 1953 and framed the absence. Banksy fed Girl with Balloon through a shredder hidden in its own frame the moment the auction concluded at Sotheby’s. And in 2016, Sun Yuan and Peng Yu caged an industrial robot at the Guggenheim and gave it a single task: sweep the blood-red fluid endlessly pooling around its base back toward itself, a futile act of self-maintenance it performed for three years, slowing visibly, until it stopped. Can’t Help Myself may be the saddest machine ever built. It is also a close ancestor to Remains: both works run on a clock, and both make the audience watch something decay in real time. But where the robot’s fate was sealed by its programming, Remains leaves the outcome unwritten. Destruction here is not a spectacle performed by the artist. It is stewardship demanded of the collector.

Rupture (b. 1993, Switzerland) is a self-taught artist based in Mexico City. Within the digital art space, he has produced one of the most widely collected artist-made bodies of work on Bitcoin, the Persona series (750 works, 2024–2025), alongside earlier work on Ethereum; he was also among the first artists to release work on Solana. The physical practice reaches back further: exhibiting internationally since 2016, with presentations at Museum Halle Saint-Pierre in Paris, Art Basel Miami, the 2nd Triennial of Self-Taught Visionary Art in Belgrade, and a nomination for the Prix Suisse d’Art Brut, figurative painting built on dense, obsessive mark-making and an insistence on the irreversible. Remains is where the two paths collide: painting and blockchain bound into single objects, each incomplete without the other.

Bitcoin is the most consequential permanence system produced in the digital age. Its architecture assumes that what is recorded cannot be lost. Remains takes that assumption seriously enough to test it — and in doing so forces a reckoning with a fundamental asymmetry between physical and digital culture: one forgets by nature, the other records permanently regardless of intent.

I sat down with Rupture ahead of the exhibition to talk about decay as a medium, the collector as an unwilling participant, and what it costs to save anything.

BMAG: Let’s start with the mechanism, because it’s the basis of the whole series. Each digital component contains exactly 210,000 pixels – the number of blocks in a Bitcoin halving epoch – and beginning at the April 2028 halving, one pixel dies for every block the network mines. Discuss how you arrived at that structure. Did the concept come first and the math followed, or did the number 210,000 suggest the work?

Rupture: The concept was there before any of the pieces existed. I was thinking a lot about permanence, especially in relation to digital mediums. Bitcoin is seen as the most permanent and unchangeable record humanity has built, and Ordinals were marketed on exactly that thesis – a truly permanent storage layer, unlike NFTs on other chains with their broken links and files sitting on someone’s server. Persona, my first series on Ordinals, embraced that promise. With Remains I wanted to turn it on its head.

I think there is something beautiful about impermanence. We live in a moment where movements like transhumanism want to engineer it away, and I understand the impulse, but I’d argue the opposite: life would lose its meaning if it were eternal. The same applies to art. Tibetan monks spend weeks building a sand mandala and then sweep it away – the dissolution becomes part of the work.

So I set out to make a digital work that would be consumed by Bitcoin’s own metabolism. From there the structure basically assembled itself. The closest on-chain analogue to a pixel dying was a block being mined – a discrete, irreversible event that happens roughly every ten minutes, forever. So I linked them one to one. An epoch is 210,000 blocks, which meant the image had to be 210,000 pixels. The math followed the concept.

BMAG: The “kill switch” is hidden beneath the paint on the physical painting. To retrieve the code that stops the decay, the collector has to destroy a meaningful portion of the physical work – and then inscribe it as a child of the Ordinal. Did you paint these differently knowing the surface is also a type of vault? It’s very taboo to touch (or cut) a painting (outside of Lucio Fontana). 

Rupture: I tried to approach these the way I would approach any other painting. The only real difference is that I had to start with the code. Each one was written on paper, laminated, and sealed at the center of the panel under layers of molding paste and gesso. Only then could the painting begin. So the secret is literally the first layer. Everything else sits on top of it.

As for the taboo – I think most of us, me included, are conditioned to ascribe a much higher value to the physical object. The painting feels irreplaceable in a way the inscription doesn’t, even when the inscription is the scarcer thing. That conditioning is what makes the concept work. The taboo gives the act of destruction its emotional weight, and that weight is what the collector has to sit with.

I deliberately left it open-ended. I’m not telling anyone what the right choice is. The collector confronts the question of value and permanence and answers it for themselves – publicly, and only once.

BMAG: There’s a lineage of destruction in art – Rauschenberg erasing de Kooning, Tinguely’s self-destroying machine at MoMA, Banksy’s shredder at Sotheby’s. And more recently, the “burn a physical to mint a digital” gesture that flared up during the initial NFT boom. Remains feels like a response to that last one in particular: in your work, destruction isn’t a spectacle the artist performs – it’s a responsibility the collector inherits. Where do you place yourself in that lineage, and what do you think the burn-to-mint era got wrong?

Rupture: I like to think of destruction as integral to creation. Jasper Johns destroyed nearly everything he made before 1954 so he could start over. Agnes Martin did the same, more than once. So artists questioning the preciousness of the art object is nothing new. And I think that preciousness is inherited – art objects have absorbed the aura that used to belong to relics. Now that commodities are the closest thing we have to a religion, cutting open a painting might be our version of desecration. Which is exactly why it carries weight.

The burn-to-mint mechanic treats the physical as a husk. You burned the painting to “upgrade” it into a token, the destruction was filmed, and the spectacle was the marketing. What it got wrong, I think, is that nothing was actually at stake. You destroyed something to get something the market valued more. That’s more of a transaction than a sacrifice.

In Remains there’s no version where you come out ahead. The collector already owns both halves, and destruction doesn’t produce anything new, it only decides which loss to accept. The loss runs on Bitcoin – a system built for remembering, repurposed as an engine of forgetting.

BMAG: The press text says the collector cannot remain passive – that inaction is itself a choice. That’s a strong tenet of the bitcoin idea. Self-custody works the same way: hold your own keys, and doing nothing is perhaps the best outcome. Did you set out to build a custody parable of some kind, or did the parallel arrive after? Artmaking can sometimes be nonlinear and we don’t see the connections in order. 

Rupture: The parallel only occurred to me after the work existed. And funny enough, Remains actually inverts the rule. In self-custody, doing nothing is the safe move, while for Remains, doing nothing is what kills half the work.

But the deeper thing is the same in both. You’re on your own. There’s no institution behind you, no support line, no one to make the decision for you or undo it afterwards. The system just records what you do, and there are no exceptions.

Most people have never owned anything under those conditions. Bitcoiners have. I think that’s why they tend to understand this work faster – they know what it feels like to be the only one responsible for something that can’t be undone.

BMAG: At the next halving, the decay clock starts for any un-rescued work. Anyone can watch the inscriptions on-chain as they change. Is a completed black square a failed Remains, or the most honest version of the work?

Rupture: It definitely isn’t a failed Remains. It’s the piece brought to one of its logical outcomes. The work was never meant to be just the image – it’s the image plus the decision, and a black square is what one of those decisions looks like. It means the collector chose the painting, whether out of conviction or paralysis, and the chain holds the receipt: 210,000 confirmations of a single choice, applied one block at a time over four years. I don’t know of another artwork that documents its owner’s decision at that resolution.

And then there’s the Malevich analogue, which you opened with. He declared the zero point of painting. Remains arrives at the black square instead of starting from it – block by block, with an exit available the entire time. I don’t know which of the four pieces will end there, if any. That’s the one part of the work I can’t determine.

BMAG: For someone standing in front of these four paintings at the exhibition – someone who knows bitcoin as a price ticker but has never thought about what permanence actually costs – what do you want them to walk away thinking about?

Rupture: How permanence is never free. Nothing survives by default. Every object in every museum is there because someone paid for it to be – in money, in labor, in space, in other things thrown away to make room. History isn’t just what happened. It’s what someone decided was worth keeping. What persists does so because something else was set aside or destroyed. We just rarely see the other half of the equation.

Remains by Rupture debuts September 2–8, 2026 at PRIV.Y Gallery, 46 Hester Street, New York, presented by BMAG and running parallel to NFT.NYC. The opening reception is September 2. RSVP at luma.com/cckjg9kl.

BMAG is also running a bounty on X: enter for a chance to win Memory Theatre VI, an original work by Rupture. Full details and entry at shop.museum.b.tc/items/memory-theatre-vi.

Remains is now available to preview at https://shop.museum.b.tc/preview/remainsbyrupture. For acquisition inquiries, DM @BMAG_HQ on X or email bmag@btcmedia.org.

Follow Rupture on X @RuptureNFT. 

The Bitcoin Museum & Art Gallery (BMAG) is the curatorial and cultural programming division of BTC Inc and the Bitcoin Conference. Learn more at museum.b.tc.

This post What Is Worth Preserving: Rupture on Remains, Decay, and the Collector’s Dilemma first appeared on Bitcoin Magazine and is written by Dennis Koch.

Bitcoin Magazine

Open Source vs. Source-Available: What the Coldcard Failure Teaches About Bitcoin Software Incentives

Closed versus Open Source code has divided the Bitcoin and broader crypto industry for well over a decade. Bitcoin advocates have long argued that the financial infrastructure of the world should be built in public. Transparency and auditability, they say, are non-negotiable when real money is at stake. Yet the app and legacy layers of finance often disagree. 

Yet the recent Coldcard hack, a popular self-custody hardware wallet where users lost over $100 million worth of bitcoin (more than 1,500 BTC), cast doubt over what “Open Source” actually means. It revealed that perhaps most people, even many hardcore bitcoiners, are poorly educated on the Open Source software development philosophy and when it fails.

The  Principles and Terminology

The language around Open Source can be complicated. Free and Open Source Software (FOSS) and Free/Libre and Open Source Software (FLOSS) refer to software that meets formal definitions of user freedom.

The Free Software Foundation (FSF) defines free software through four essential freedoms:

• Freedom 0: The freedom to run the program as you wish, for any purpose.
• Freedom 1: The freedom to study how the program works, and change it so it does your computing as you wish (access to the source code is a precondition for this).
• Freedom 2: The freedom to redistribute copies so you can help others.
• Freedom 3: The freedom to distribute copies of your modified versions to others (access to the source code is a precondition for this).

The FSF emphasizes that “free” refers to liberty, not price, in a common quote heard from FOSS advocates: “‘free’ as in ‘free speech,’ not as in ‘free beer.’”

The Open Source Initiative’s Open Source Definition adds ten practical criteria. These include free redistribution without royalties, availability of source code in the preferred form for modification, the right to create and distribute derived works, and no discrimination against persons, groups, or fields of endeavor — including commercial use. A license must meet all ten criteria to qualify as Open Source under the OSI standard.

“Source available” or “source viewable” is different. Code may be publicly readable while the license restricts the right to sell it. Coldcard’s firmware, for example, is released under MIT terms plus the Commons Clause. The Clause specifically removes the right to “Sell” the software — defined as providing it to third parties for a fee or other consideration in a product or service whose value derives entirely or substantially from the software itself. In other words, Coldcard’s firmware could not be used commercially. 

The Commons Clause’s own FAQ states the difference explicitly: “Is this ‘Open Source’? No.” It notes that applying the clause means the software meets many elements of the Open Source Definition but not all of them, and therefore should not be called Open Source.

These distinctions matter. Publishing source code creates the possibility of inspection. Granting the full set of rights defined by the Free Software Definition or the Open Source Definition is what makes software FOSS or FLOSS. But having the badge of approval, being able to wave a FOSS or FLOSS flag, is not the point. Commercial liberty in FOSS unlocks third-party incentives to test and review code that might otherwise not be there, critics argue. 

The four freedoms form the philosophical core of Open Source. In practice they rest on an economic assumption: that enough motivated people will actually examine the code. When that assumption fails, the system produces a classic tragedy of the commons, a situation where a shared resource is overused or neglected because individual users act in their own short-term self-interest rather than in the long-term interest of the group. 

Each person has an incentive to take more (or contribute less) than is sustainable, and the resource degrades as a result. This happens when there is misalignment between the short-term self-interest of the individual and the long-term interest of the group. Sometimes alignment exists; sometimes it does not. 

One Bitcoin developer put the problem bluntly: “Using mocks and stubs of Open Source code in tests is irresponsible and shortsighted. Open Source code is considered safe because anyone can verify it. If you aren’t willing to do the bare minimum of testing the features you actually depend on, then you are behaving like a leech.”

As a result, Open Source does not create safety by itself. It creates the possibility of verification. Whether that verification occurs depends on incentives, skill, and attention. Historical FOSS is believed to harden over time as vulnerabilities are discovered, disclosed and patched, creating solid foundations others build on top of. The Linux kernel is a great example of such hardened FOSS; it powers the vast majority of the world’s servers, cloud infrastructure, Android devices, and embedded systems, making it one of the most widely deployed pieces of software in history.

Open Source as Demonstrated by Bitcoin Core

Bitcoin Core, the reference implementation of Bitcoin, is another prescient large-scale example of pure open-source functioning in the wild. The software, which runs behind most Bitcoin-related infrastructure, is released under the MIT license. Its development process is broadly public by design.

Anyone can open a pull request. Code review is the primary filter and the recommended entry point for new contributors. Reviewers use a formal vocabulary—Concept ACK (acknowledgment and agreement with the goal), Approach ACK (agreement with the goal and method), ACK with a specific commit hash (tested and approved for merge), or NACK (disagreement, which should be accompanied by technical reasoning).

Maintainers weigh consensus among contributors and the technical merits of a change before merging. Consensus-critical changes face a still higher bar and usually require a Bitcoin Improvement Proposal and extensive multi-year discussions on the bitcoin-dev mailing list and IRC.

There is no privileged caste of “Bitcoin Core developers.” Trust is earned through demonstrated competence over time. Maintainers exist for practical reasons—auditing and merging code, managing releases, and basic moderation—but the work produced is pure open-source code that anyone can inspect, build, fork, or run. Developers who get code ‘commits’ merged into Bitcoin Core are broadly called Bitcoin Core Contributors. 

Calle, a long-time open-source Bitcoin developer, summarized the reality recently: “People who think that core is some sort of intransparent institution operating in the shadows are either too lazy or too dumb to go have a look for themselves. Literally everything they do is public, anyone can chime in, and the result of their work is pure Open Source code.”

Funding for this work comes largely through nonprofit and grant structures such as Brink, OpenSats, Spiral, and others rather than a traditional company product roadmap. Technical discussion and debate take place publicly on the bitcoin-dev mailing list and in the #bitcoin-core-dev IRC channel on Libera Chat, where proposals are scrutinized before and during the pull-request process. GitHub issues and pull requests often carry comment histories stretching back a decade. The result is a development culture optimized for correctness and auditability rather than speed or commercial feature velocity.

The Economics of Open Source

Most users of open-source or source-available software never read the code themselves. They rely on the assumption that others are examining it. In the Coldcard case, a critical entropy flaw remained in publicly available firmware for roughly five years before it was exploited and thus discovered. 

The bug entered the codebase during a major 2021 rewrite that also removed remaining GPL-derived code from Trezor, the first hardware wallet and now the second largest in the self-custody industry. The library at the center of the entropy failure, which replaced trezor-crypto, is called libngu and had minimal external scrutiny, with only 7 stars and fewer than 20 forks in over 5 years of being used in production. Compare that to the 512 stars worn by the trezor-crypto library alongside 212 forks, or the 793 forks and 1.8k stars of the more modern trezor-firmware. Source availability alone did not produce the review that mattered, because other for-profit, well-funded companies were restricted from using it, or so critics would argue. 

The stakes are higher in Bitcoin than in most software domains. A critical flaw can be converted directly into liquid funds on the open market. While the first half of the Coldcard funds stolen are still held in a handful of addresses and the hacker may one day be caught, copycat hackers that followed were more careful, and some have stolen more bitcoin and laundered it successfully, per Galaxy Research. Bitcoin’s censorship resistance and immutable transactability create both a powerful incentive for attackers and a Darwinian filter; only projects that continuously attract competent review, and users and companies that take serious precautions, tend to survive long-term.

Licensing choices shape those incentives according to FOSS advocates who criticized Coinkite’s licensing decisions for years. Pure open-source licenses maximize the pool of potential reviewers and forks. Restricted “source available” licenses can reduce commercial free-riding but also shrink the circle of people with both the legal right and the economic motive to invest deep attention. Alas, the burden of code review falls back on the company under a restrictive license, placing it in some sense closer to closed source than open.

How AI Changes Open and Closed Source Development

Artificial intelligence is now also altering the balance between FOSS and Closed source.

After the Coldcard incident, a volunteer effort known as the Bitcoin Red Team—led by developers including Calle and Rob Hamilton of AnchorWatch, and supported by OpenSats—used frontier AI models to scan hundreds of open-source Bitcoin repositories. In one intensive period, the team filed thousands of findings, including dozens classified as critical or high severity, across hundreds of projects. Responsible disclosures were made to maintainers before broader publication. The exercise demonstrated that systematic AI-assisted review can surface issues at a scale and speed previously impractical for purely human teams.

On this front, it is worth noting that the Red Team found Chinese open-weight models far more reliable than closed-source American models, which, even with cyber permissions and top-line access, refused to answer Red Team queries, a trend that the American developers lament. 

At the same time, the flood of AI-generated code has created a new denial-of-service pressure on FOSS maintainers. Reviewing AI output often takes longer than generating it. Some open-source projects outside Bitcoin have restricted issue trackers or imposed strict anti-AI contribution rules simply to stay functional.

On the closed-source side, the traditional advantage of security through obscurity is eroding. Modern AI models can read, de-obfuscate, probe endpoints and reason about code at high speed. The practical difference between open and closed source is now mostly relegated to back-end code that never gets shared online. Closed-source code, as a result, stands only on the quality of professional audits, the speed of patch deployment, and the incentive structure that keeps competent people with access looking.

Bitcoin and the broader crypto industry are applying unusual pressures to free and open-source software. The combination of real monetary value at risk, adversarial economics, and now AI-scale analysis is forcing the software models to evolve. Returning to analog pre-digital systems is hardly an option for infrastructure that holds up modern society. Only the most audited projects are likely to survive the pressures of AI-aided hackers and the weight of digital-first finance.

This post Open Source vs. Source-Available: What the Coldcard Failure Teaches About Bitcoin Software Incentives first appeared on Bitcoin Magazine and is written by Juan Galt.

Bitcoin Magazine

The Pack Is the Painting: Evil Biscuit and the Schizocollage Movement Come to Hong Kong

In 1956, at an exhibition hall in Tokyo, a Japanese artist named Saburō Murakami ran through a row of paper screens, leaving a torn, human-shaped hole in each one. The audience heard the rip in the moment but likely didn’t understand it.

Murakami belonged to Gutai, the radical postwar avant-garde collective whose members painted with their feet and fought with mud, and his gesture made an argument the art world is still digesting, but ultimately the tearing and the wreckage after were the actual artwork. 

Seventy years later, the ripping hasn’t stopped. Trading card livestreams, Discord server groups, collector markets of all sorts, gambling/flipping, and nostalgia freebasing. Layered detritus. The artist named Evil Biscuit seems aware of this. 

If you haven’t heard of Evil Biscuit, you may not have been watching one of the strangest and most vital corners of internet art. Over the past few years, a scene of mostly pseudonymous artists, formed across crypto subcultures, Twitter timelines, and private group chats, has been quietly staging one of the more genuine artistic rebellions of the decade.

Where the establishment crypto-art world courted galleries with polished generative work, these artists went the other direction. Images so dense with meme references, anime, veiled art history, and internet debris that critics had to invent new words for them. They called the style schizocollage or traitmaxxing, a practice of taking the trait system that generates ordinary avatar collections and pushing it past its breaking point, hundreds of layers deep, until the image verges on chaos.

Critics started paying attention. In Spike Art Magazine, Dean Kissick placed the work in the lineage of deliberately “bad painting”, a tradition with serious credentials: Marcia Tucker staged ‘Bad’ Painting at the New Museum in 1978, arguing that wrongness, handled deliberately, is a form of freedom. Right Click Save filed dispatches from what it called the Avant NFT underground. And the movement’s participants, with characteristic self-mockery, settled on their own name for it: Avant/Gay.

Near the center of the scene sits Biscuit. His Drifella collections are widely cited as its defining works, and artist Parker Ito, the post-internet veteran who crossed over into the movement, credits Drifella 2 with establishing the aesthetic the whole scene became known for, and went on to collaborate with Biscuit on last Halloween’s Heavy Liquid Graphic. The endorsement cuts both ways: the art world is starting to take this seriously, and the scene got there without asking anyone’s permission.

Lately, Biscuit’s work has been escaping the screen, and the destruction has gotten literal. His current project, Card NFT 2, debuted with preliminary ‘Framed Cards’ through SOLOS Gallery at Felix Art Fair this February. And earlier this summer he made roughly eleven thousand cards, sold in packs, each digital card redeemable for a physical one if the collector is willing to burn the NFT to get it. For the rarest tier, as he told Peter Bauman at Le Random, he takes vintage holographic Pokémon cards, dissolves the ink off them with acetone until only the bare silver foil remains, then UV-prints entirely new artwork onto the wreckage. Saburō Murakami would understand. One theme runs through everything Biscuit makes: “destruction, death and rebirth.” 

Now Biscuit’s art is headed to Hong Kong. He is contributing to the Bitcoin Asia 2026 conference card pack produced by the artist Rax, where his cards will sit alongside work by Ariamis (formerly Terrorism) — his New Bad Image co-exhibitor, a younger artist pouring Renaissance devotional imagery into the card format, and several other key artists in this movement. The pack is something like a satellite of the show, sealed in foil. And it sits exactly on the fault line this scene has been working: the old hierarchy between artwork and collectible has collapsed, and the most interesting artists now make objects that are both at once.

Internet art has always come from rooms the trad art world ignored: forums, blogs, group chats, and now crypto. BMAG has been working in one of those rooms for years: it’s the Bitcoin conference art gallery. When the painter Nardo showed at Bitcoin MENA in 2024, our conversation circled around memes as units of cultural transmission. A year later his Citadel, a seven-foot oil painting built from a 4chan meme, debuted at the Bitcoin Conference in Las Vegas, a monument raised to an internet shitpost. 

Ahead of the BMAG Card Expo at Bitcoin Asia and the pack’s release, I sat down with Biscuit to talk about coming up in the internet’s wildest art scene, why the trading card keeps pulling digital artists toward cardboard, and what collectors keep getting wrong, and right, about both.

BMAG: Your father runs a comic shop, and you’ve talked about digging through his boxes to find the source material. What is a core memory from your time in your dad’s comic shop? What did those boxes teach you about why people collect? 

EB: Yeah, some of the deep ties I have with trading cards come from my experience playing in Yugioh tournaments and collecting when I was a young kid at my father’s shop. 

I was quite a shy young kid so it was definitely an experience going to play for the first time with a nonsense 100+ card deck against older teenagers. I remember this one autistic kid used to sit outside on a pillar and he would meditate before his matches channeling anime characters and talking to himself. 

Pokémon was around ever since I was born so playing my older brother’s games and going to church where they would trade cards and show off their binders were core memories before I was even 6 years old. The shop closed down when I was really young and before I became serious about making art some years ago my dad and I opened it back up selling comics, vintage video games and trading cards. 

card nft – 2024

BMAG: Jefferson Burdick, the father of American card collecting, spent his final years putting thousands of cards into albums at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Art Spiegelman was at Topps inventing series like Garbage Pail Kids before mainstream success. Brian Droitcour recently made the observation about the trading card medium: a Magic card is an image that does something, rarity and function entwined, while NFTs inherited that logic and captured only the rarity. What can cards do that a painting can’t? 

EB: A lot of my work I see as paintings. Trading cards became the substrate and source material that I drew from with card nft 1 & 2. 

The sheer scale that you can work with creating paintings/trading cards/NFTs and proliferating them throughout collectors is something that you just can’t compete with on any level. To me, being a serious young artist means being curious enough to experiment with the tools and formats shaping our generation—whether that’s AI, NFTs, or trading cards. Putting these all in the same context as painting is really interesting to me. 

card nft – 2024

BMAG: Photography has a beautiful old term, the latent image: the picture that already exists on exposed film but stays invisible until developed. A sealed pack is a stack of latent images, and opening it is the development, the moment the possible becomes the particular. You’ve said a third of your redemption collectors never open the pack at all. They’ve chosen to keep the artwork latent forever. When you’re generating a collection, do you think of yourself as making eleven thousand images, or eleven thousand moments of development?

EB: When I first started wrapping my mind around the idea of NFTs, I always imagined the minting experience like a pack opening. The earliest projects and NFTs that got me into collecting were PFPs with rarity systems and similar to the chance of hitting a big holo there were rare traits that could instantly make your mint be worth 10x what you minted it for.

A regular mint from the 2021 era or even from our scene is a prepared image that is randomized to you. A layer we’ve added on mons dot shop with these packs is that the mints are wrapped in a sealed package that can be kept unopened forever. I can’t put my finger on why this is but in collecting there always seems to be these systems and hierarchies that form with keeping collectibles in pristine condition and even making sure the objects inside never see the light of day again. 

I remember one time getting a pack of Yugioh cards when I was younger at a Wal-Mart and imagining the cards randomizing and shuffling like a slot machine inside the pack. I knew I would open it but I just was daydreaming on whether the one pack I picked would have something good in it. I ended up pulling an Ultimate Rare Blackwing Vayu. I had a Blackwing deck so it was a sick addition to my collection. My dad then helped me sell it on eBay for $80. I wish I didn’t sell it, lol.

BMAG: For Card NFT 2, you strip the ink off real vintage holographic Pokémon cards, objects whose whole market value rests on condition, and print new art on the bare foil. You’ve even mentioned a desire to print recreations of ultra-expensive Gold Star cards convincing enough to fool people at card conventions.

In the Philip K. Dick book The Man in the High Castle, a manufacturer of fakes holds up two identical Zippo lighters, except one was in Franklin Roosevelt’s pocket when he was assassinated (in Dick’s alternate history). One has what he calls ‘historicity’ or aura. The entire collecting world, graders, slabs, provenance, is an industry built to solve that problem. Convincing fakes prove the eye can be fooled. So what does destroying a potentially valuable card create? And what is a forgery in the hands of an artist?

EB: In Hunter x Hunter there is a scene before they are going to the auction in Yorknew City where they are at a flea market of sorts looking at vases and antiques. They discover that objects have an energy aura that can be seen around them. This signifies to them that something has lived some history and possibly has value for them to buy it at a low price and resell it. 

I think it’s true that objects have this energy and aura to them. And even in art pieces/paintings the artist is focusing their attention directly on a single point so an item can become powerful in that way. 

I think it’s interesting to break these false barriers of intellectual property and almost sort of organically represent or recreate an object as powerful as a Gold Star Charizard. You could even relate it to apprentices making master copies of their favorite artist’s work. These aren’t solely done with skill. It has a lot to do with your love of the artist and your intention to make yours just as beautiful as the original. 

To me certain cards I own are sacred because of the memories made with them or the meaning they have to me. It’s like with an NFT I would never burn one just to destroy it. Lately I’ve been buying a lot of damaged mid-era and WOTC cards and printing collage over to breathe new life back into them. I collect old paper to print and draw on in the same way and I appreciate that they have lived a life longer than my own without being marked or drawn on at all. 

I was born in 1996 the same year as Pokémon and I’ve been enamored by the artwork, games and cards my whole life. It’s not a coincidence that it’s inspired my whole career and identities in multiple ways. A very well coordinated psychic operation has taken hold of my generation’s minds! Lol 

card nft 2 – 2026

BMAG: Hito Steyerl defended the poor image, the compressed copy that circulates everywhere, detached from its origin. Trading cards run the inversion. Thousands of images circulate, only one gets attention, and the bulk commons exist mostly to manufacture the aura around the single chase card. You’ve said you always try to break rarity standards. Why does it matter to you that the cheap card can be the best one?

EB: It really is just about making the best images. While I can agree with you on modern stuff being generally filler and uninteresting, going through mid-era or vintage bulk is very enjoyable to me. There are tons of unique artworks and cards that hit just as hard to me or even better than modern chase cards. 

I would say most of the collectors in the Solana & adjacent scene agree with the sentiment that rarity doesn’t matter to them. 

These Dratinis from Team Rocket Returns are two of my favorite cards even non holo. 

BMAG: The philosopher Jean Baudrillard never saw a card show, but he described one perfectly. In a mature enough market, he argued, the sign detaches from the thing. The chase card isn’t valuable because of its imagery, it’s valuable because of the system that produces its value, and the market ends up referring only to itself. Grade, price, then maybe the picture. Can the artwork still pull the eye back through all of that?

EB: Card 2 really put this to the test with multiple layers of rarity and subversion. There are 7,000 unique 1/1s printed on original cards, almost 4,000 ones that are printed with holographic texture, and a rare subset of 111 cards that are just pixelated mosaic blocks of color and these became sought after. There are also these gold gradient cards that I am printing front and back on metal. All of this and at the same time collectors really want Dratini/Drifella-themed cards, specifically the honor thy father CruciDrifella statue is one that a lot of people are/were looking for.  

I even included some precious cards that I hand painted and added embellishments onto with a trait called ‘altered’.

I feel like a lot of my collections work on this level where people gravitate towards certain imagery and genuinely just buy what they love without fussing over rarity ranks or condition of cards. In fact for myself the more damaged a card the cooler it ends up looking when printed on. 

BMAG: The crucifixion sits at the center of your work: CruciDrifella, the death and resurrection cycles, imagery you’ve said you genuinely wrestle with. And the vessel you put it in is somewhat of a gambling object: packs, pulls, odds, speculation. The Bible has an opinion about mixing money with the sacred, and it resulted in a table-flipping meme. Do you feel that tension when you make these? Or is the pack where salvation and luck have always been confused for each other?

EB: I’m not really interested in debating the sins of modern society. This is some of the culture I grew up with and the ideas I want to play with at the moment. It’s funny because Pokémon themselves have this history of being demonized by Christians in the 90s for summoning monsters and having ritualistic occult battles. 

I usually follow my intuition and subconscious interests when creating and it’s generally not something I think about while I work. It comes from a deep interest in theology and these symbols and archetypes are important to humanity and I don’t make light of them, but I am really not a dogmatic person. I am interested in play, working with new technology and conducting these elements together while making good images and stories. 

I think it’s fun and real to have anime characters interact with serious subject matter and it’s cool for me to reproduce these Naruto or Pokémon trading cards that I enjoyed collecting when I was younger linking them with disparate assets like a Francis Bacon character or even blending & morphing them into my world with Drifellas. It’s similar to how the internet is thrown at us and how my mind and interests have intersected/mutated as I grew up looking at different art with new perspectives.

Right now reflecting on my work has been interesting and knowing that with all of these new tools you can generate an absurd amount of artwork to derive meaning from and peer into. I am looking at things as they come to me and asking myself why am I compelled to make certain images and if it’s genuinely important to me. 

It leads me to contradictions like why I am drawn to adapt this imagery & tell this story of a demon dragon character. What does it speak of Dratini & the serpent in the Garden of Eden and how it ties to certain Gnostic Christian ideas? Drifella is this beast who’s been bastardized, bred and trapped in the lower dimensions as a jester entity but he is still an innocent teenager attempting to invert what he was turned into, transforming himself into an emissary of light and dark for Jesus. 

I don’t identify with any particular religious tradition but I revere Christ and consider his teachings the highest standard for humanity — a lot of which is needed now; rejecting materialism, teaching self love and knowledge, and being a light shining in darkness. I look forward to exploring these ideas in the future as I make more art. 

Evil Biscuit’s cards appear in PoorTraits: serfs_up, the first official Bitcoin Conference card pack, in an edition of 5,000. Every pack contains one holo chase card, with 100 free GA passes and a Whale Pass hidden across the run. Packs are available for purchase online, or in-person in Hong Kong.

The BMAG Card Expo runs August 27 and 28 at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre as part of Bitcoin Asia 2026: 40+ trading card vendor marketplace, live Pokémon TCG tournament presented by Moonroad HK with HK$19,000 prize pool, graded artist cards on view, auctions, and main stage panels with collecting luminaries David Chau and AJ Scaramucci.

Use code MEGAGA for a discount on Bitcoin Asia tickets.

Follow Evil Biscuit on X/Twitter here.

This post The Pack Is the Painting: Evil Biscuit and the Schizocollage Movement Come to Hong Kong first appeared on Bitcoin Magazine and is written by Dennis Koch.

Bitcoin Magazine

Self Custody Is Dead. Long Live Self Custody

The Coldcard hack last week dealt a low blow to certain elements of the Bitcoin industry. A somber introspection has begun to question many of the practices and assumptions involved in securing bitcoin at a retail level. The consequences of this process might not be visible for many months. 

Some are saying that self-custody is dead. Some reports estimate that over 11,000 bitcoins were moved to custodial exchanges last week as users fled one of the most popular hardware wallets in the Bitcoin industry. The hack, which is ongoing and users can still save themselves from, has seen north of 1,300 bitcoins stolen, with some estimates as high as 2,000 coins. 

Coinkite in particular and its most vocal founder, NVK, had very strong opinions about what it took to secure bitcoin private keys from hackers. Its hardware wallets were airgapped to make sure malware could not exfiltrate data through USB cables. It used low-resolution, LED screens to avoid the complexity of touch screens. It developed protocols like BBQR and integrated NFC so that information could be transferred between the device and a computer without them touching or sharing SD cards. The list of paranoid design choices that made Coldcards iconic is long.

Yet the hackers involved in the theft of bitcoins held in Coldcards last week did not use any methods you might see in a modern spy movie. They exploited the one feature Coldcard should have had absolutely locked down. The generation of keys with high enough randomness, also known as entropy. In other words, secrets securing that are actually, mathematically hard to guess. While the devices were intended to use high-quality sources of entropy, the firmware had a bug which did not, resulting in Bitcoin private keys that were, in turn, easy to guess. The bug went undiscovered for years, and the product only grew in popularity in the meantime, until last week.

“Just buy the ETF bro”

Despite this loss, which wounded a cohort of Bitcoiners who were among the most committed. Bitcoin can not give up on self-custody and expect to retain its integrity. At least that is what many in the industry believe, and the case for that is clear.

Satoshi Nakamoto’s white paper clearly intended Bitcoin to be a solution to trusted third parties and intermediaries. It eloquently made the case against trusted hierarchies of finance, as the 2008 financial crisis revealed the deep systemic risks and flaws legacy finance has led to. Many believe the 2008 crisis was never escaped, its consequences haunting us to this day. 

This may be unpopular, but we never escaped the 2008 financial crisis. We just shifted the pain.

— Nayib Bukele (@nayibbukele) July 29, 2026

Going further back to the birth and proliferation of the modern banking system and its fiat currency. The 6102 executive order signed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933 saw the persecution and confiscation of gold from centralized trusted third parties and citizens alike. $300,000,000 in gold was returned after the executive order threatened gold owners with heavy fines and jail time if they did not sell their bullion to the banks at $20,67 per ounce. Over 14 million troy ounces worth of gold were turned in as a result. Another 200 million troy ounces are estimated to have been held in the American banking system at the time. The banking system, not just in the U.S. but worldwide at the time, was built atop the gold standard.

The U.S. was the largest economy of the world at the time, with the biggest concentration of gold inside its borders. Its abandonment of the gold standard was a death blow to gold as a free market pricing mechanism for goods and services as a whole. Governments throughout the world, now free from the chains of sound money, quickly fed and fattened from the hidden tax of inflation. At the time of the EO, the price of gold was artificially fixed to $20.67 an ounce; not a year later, it was repriced to $35 with the passing of the Gold Reserve Act in 1934, a 69% devaluation in the dollar. 

The fiat standard was thus delivered to governments throughout the world on a silver platter, by an unholy alliance between the banking system and politicians. It granted central banks the legal right to counterfeit money, to print it at will. It was soon followed by World War Two, which was of course funded by fiat currency. Tens of millions of people sacrificed in this war at the altar of state power. 

Fast forward a hundred years and U.S. government debt demands almost a trillion per year be paid in interest alone, with total owed close to 40 trillion and debt to GDP at 123%. These are arguably the inevitable yet predictable consequences of the death of the gold standard. The purchasing power of the dollar has collapsed in the century that followed, at the same time as technology has gone parabolic in its efficiency gains. That is only possible with money that has continually become worthless for decades. And the dollar is the best of the fiat lot.

Confiscation of gold in a rising power like the United States murdered the gold standard. It, however, could not have been possible if civilian custody of gold had been wider and more distributed. Many of the civilians who returned millions in gold after the 6102 EO had just taken it out of their accounts in a bank run. Their names were known, the amount of gold they held, tallied.

If gold was easier to move in large quantities. If private gold ownership totals had been more ambiguous. If removing the free flow of gold had not been so easy for the state to do, by knocking on the doors of bankers and pointing a gun, then perhaps the economies of the world would not have been able to withstand such a vast and destructive war, as was WWII for so long, in the following decade. 

Bitcoin is Gold, Engineered To Survive a 6102 EO

Bitcoin poses an alternative to gold, designed to learn from its inadequacies. Bitcoin has better properties to resist and survive such a confiscation. Bitcoiners envision and aspire to unlock a world that adopts Bitcoin as a global monetary standard. Where a large minority or even a small majority of the global economy uses Bitcoin as their primary store of value. In such a future, Bitcoin would take the place of gold and return sound money to the so-called capitalist order.  

To reach global reserve currency and defend this position, Bitcoin will need to be better than gold, and it can be better precisely because of its digital nature. The control of private keys, as difficult as it seems now in the shadow of the Coldcard hack, nevertheless can be far more powerful than any physical vault. Multi-signature scripts alone unlock distributed storage of Bitcoin private keys, such that a threshold of them must approve to move coins. This means that multi-jurisdictional, multinational vaults can exist and escape or resist the greedy hands of a large state that might attempt a new kind of 6102 takeover. 

The digital nature of Bitcoin means large amounts of value can be moved easily as well, without having to send the navy on a mission to pick up the gold. Without having to build a trusted hierarchy of banking custodians to transfer it. Civilians, with tools available today and better tools that are yet to come, might be able to hide their Bitcoin ownership as has been done in war-torn countries like Ukraine already, escaping a fearsome state’s grip over the public’s wealth.

Ultimately, a major hardware wallet manufacturer has failed the Bitcoin industry. The fundamental qualities of money remain the same, and among them all, as identified by Aristotle and others beyond him, Bitcoin remains king. 

“Bitcoin vs gold vs fiat One is not like the others” – @BITCOINARCHIVE 

This post Self Custody Is Dead. Long Live Self Custody first appeared on Bitcoin Magazine and is written by Juan Galt.

Bitcoin Magazine

I Scanned the Entire Bitcoin Blockchain for Images. What I Found Will Shock You

I scanned the Bitcoin blockchain for images; what I found will shock you. Much has been said online about the arbitrary data and content that can be found on the Bitcoin blockchain. Not only has this possibility spawned a niche art scene, but it has also led to a movement against ‘non-monetary transactions’ on the Bitcoin network. Were you to hear from one of its proponents or detractors, you’d figure the blockchain is basically a wall filled with graffiti. 

Well, I decided to put the question to the test: are there actually images on the blockchain? And what does this actually mean for Bitcoiners simply trying to run their own full node and maximize their financial sovereignty?

My methodology was simple: I was to buy a fresh hard drive to store the blockchain on, and then I was going to run classic image recovery software over the data, something used to rescue images from broken hard drives, something designed to find raw image data. 

I chose PhotoRec to do the image recovery work, an open source image recovery program that’s been around for over 20 years. The software is designed to find image files in raw data. This can be used to recover images and other file formats from hard drives that have failed or been corrupted. It is actually often used to recover lost wallet.dat files from the early days of Bitcoin wallets, before the proliferation of the seed word format. 

Syncing The Full Bitcoin Node 

For storage of the full Bitcoin blockchain, I decided to buy a 4-terabyte disk drive for a couple hundred dollars. I then installed the latest version of Bitcoin Core on it and started to sync the chain. The process, which involves downloading and verifying the accounting integrity of all transactions in Bitcoin history, took about 72 hours or three days, automated and running in the background by the Bitcoin Core software.

I did this with an otherwise powerful gaming machine; the main bottleneck in terms of time was the disk drive, which is slow to read and write data as needed when syncing Bitcoin’s blockchain. The slow part of the process involves the unspent transaction output set, or UTXO. When a user syncs the blockchain, every unspent transaction value (output) or positive balance is organized into the UTXO set, and as those values are spent, they are removed from the set, while the new address to which those satoshi were sent is added. 

On the disk drive, this UTXO indexing process could have taken three weeks according to some estimates, so to speed it up, my clanker (AI agent) suggested we index the data in RAM instead, then move the data back to the 4-terabyte disk drive. While the whole process took three days, running in the background, an SSD could have done the whole job in about a day. SSD drives are much faster than disk drives; they are more modern, but they are also easily four times the price, or more.

Once the blockchain was fully downloaded and validated, we moved the UTXO index from RAM back to the disk and booted the Bitcoin software; the chain was fully synced and the wallet ready to go. Now it was time for the next step: recovering the images stored on the blockchain.

Image Recovery on the Blockchain with PhotoRec

With the full Bitcoin blockchain on my disk drive, I turned off Bitcoin Core and asked my clanker (Cursor AI agent) to run PhotoRec 7.2 on the drive. The default PhotoRec process looks for jpg, png, gif, tif, bmp, ico, psd, and raw formats. The process ran for over 11 hours on the blockchain data and ultimately found … (drum roll) … nothing.

Over a terabyte of blockchain data and half a day of scanning and no images turned up. The PhotoRec wiki page gives a simple example of how the software works: “PhotoRec identifies a JPEG file when a block begins with: 0xff, 0xd8, 0xff, 0xe0, 0xff, 0xd8, 0xff, 0xe1, or 0xff, 0xd8, 0xff, 0xfe.” In other words, the program looks at the data on the disk for bytes that signal that there’s an image file. 

The program is capable of false positives; it saved 8 ICOs and 4 identical PNG files that don’t show any images when opened, as seen in the picture below. So, effectively no meaningful images of any kind were found. 

Where Did the Jpegs Go? XOR Magic Tricks

How is this possible? For years, crypto people have been talking about NFTs and how to engrave image data on the Bitcoin blockchain. Millions of dollars have moved in this niche, and a whole culture war is being fought on the matter as we speak. Can there really be no images on the chain? 

Turns out the risks involved with arbitrary data have been discussed and planned for in Bitcoin Core development circles for a long time, as early as 2011. XOR, a simple data obfuscation technique, is used to scramble all the blockchain data while it is at rest on a hard drive. 

You might have heard that the fundamental language of computers is made up of 0’s and 1’s. Well, in a nutshell, XOR compares two digits or bits and returns 1 if the bits are different or 0 if the bits are the same. In the case of Bitcoin, XOR compares every bit of the blockchain data to a random key generated during initial install, resulting in data at rest that other programs can find no meaning in. However, when the Bitcoin software runs, it has the key to unscramble that data and use it at will. XOR is also very fast, so it does not meaningfully impact performance. Here’s an example of the Bitcoin genesis block before and after an XOR.

XOR is currently applied to both the blockchain data and the UTXO set. XOR was initially discussed in 2014 when anti-virus software started getting tripped up by blockchain data it interpreted as virus code. The anti-virus software would then quarantine a block, corrupting the blockchain data and crashing Bitcoin, making sync impossible. By the end of 2015, XOR had been implemented on the UTXO set data at rest and in 2024 it was implemented on all blockchain data at rest. 

Incidentally, the XOR process means that no arbitrary data can be identified or extracted from the blockchain without intentionally bypassing the XOR, a process that is not necessary for monetary use of Bitcoin. Since the Bitcoin Core software keeps a simple database of the location of each scrambled block, it can get its data, unscramble it and use it in a targeted manner easily.

Syncing Bitcoin in an unscrambled way is a custom process that can take as much time as syncing from scratch, since it basically has to re-write the full terabyte of data in a new order, and there’s not much point in that for someone that just wants the normal privacy and security benefits of running a Bitcoin node. So when it comes to the vast majority of copies of the Bitcoin blockchain data, resting on the computers of normal Bitcoiners throughout the world, there’s effectively no arbitrary data or images that can be identified. Shocking, I know. Feel free to run the PhotoRec test yourself on your own node!

This post I Scanned the Entire Bitcoin Blockchain for Images. What I Found Will Shock You first appeared on Bitcoin Magazine and is written by Juan Galt.