“A collaboration, between two undergrounders on an undergrounder press: Capitalism-&-schizophrenia reigns in 404 like Noise: the genre characterised by the expressive use of copy-&-paste, a kind of overabundant madness within a musical text: and 404 Error is akin to this: to watching dead empires in decay, to the screams of zooNOsISE part 1: a highstress horrorshow: of two men making a Frankenstein, on the 88th floor of a concrete block tower.” 

—Peppy Ooze

“Vasicek and Siratori have created a massive nuclear bomb of a "book.” Augenblick is something altogether neu and alt. It is fucking impressive.“

—Zak Ferguson

a Machinist I am. 

Machine is extraterrestrial signal and noise. 

Machine is a UFO docking at the Zeppelin port of the Empire State Building.

Machine is the petite death of the novel. 

Machine is an Anti-anti-Novel.

"R.G. Vasicek comprehends the constraints we will drift into, will they be despotic, dystopic and utterly brilliant, will they be accountable, Laputan and unreservedly gloomy, where the sexual tastes on a colony planet will twirl amongst vortices of space-time."

—Shane Jesse Christmass

"René Vasicek's deftly dark new work is most mysteriously feline, in that it exists simultaneously as novel / non-novel, and perhaps entirely for its own pleasure. This quasi-homeric epic sci-fi riff plumbs the dystopic banality of modern angst and desire through rhythmic attention to out-of-control technology, the strangeness of time-space, and frequent peeks under the covers of the mid-life marital bed. Arguably at its best in the strong middle chapters, where traditional narrative form frames some delicious grown-up Pinkwater-esque capers, the more experimental chapters condense into intriguing atmospheric mists which swirl around the protagonist and trace the leitmotif of the insubstantiality of personal experience. In strange times like these, what could be more paradoxically reassuring? Who are we? Where are we? Comfort! COMFORT!"

—Jonathan Carr

"after[image] is an intrusive thought born from a machine. It is powerful. This is a beautifully designed book. It is a tiny pocketbook that can be read on the toilet, on the subway, on the trams of Prague, slid into a back pocket."

—Zak Ferguson

“The narrator of [interface] is a voice bouncing between two electrical pylons… between two NY brick facades... between the nobbly bulge of a blown glass tankard carrying gloriously cheap Prague pivo... between two artists from across the pond, not me and R.G., but me and many hundreds of thousands of artists, rebels, rogue operators... between R.G. and many hundred of thousands of rogue operators, rebels, and ink splattered artists.”

—Zak Ferguson

"This book is an experience, a corruption of perception and processing, where material information is photographed, processed, altered, repurposed, and evolved - stamped - virally injected - influenza projected - ectoplasmically - onto page, then onto retina, finally into consciousness; a deluge of full-on black ink - built out of glitchy, indistinct, vague photographic forms, resembling processed images, but are evolved inkblots amassing inside the book's interior substructure themselves. Warping. Taking control. Paving a way for yet another literary scene to awaken, to take comfort in the fact that you can write and create as passionately, and as gorgeously as R.G Vasicek does."

—Zak Ferguson

Zig is a machinist in a factory in THE CITY OF MACHINES. Like most of us, Zig fails miserably at his job. But no one gets fired! People simply disappear. It is an odd & uncanny metropolis of velocipedes & zeppelins. Secret police prowl the streets in super-aerodynamic TATRA patrol cars. Every night, Zig feels lucky to return to his apartment, and to his beautiful wife Anika.

One night, Zig gets arrested. 

A mysterious, cult-like figure named Rez introduces Zig to the labyrinth of the Underground.

NEA-Award winning writer RENÉ GEORG VASICEK (Machine, Cyborg, The Defectors) teams up with Portland artist NOAH HULSIZER to bring you this ongoing sci fi-thriller mystery series.

I am a rogue operator.

I have no allegiance.

No flag.

No philosophical system.

Each book writes itself.