5 Stars Quotes

“The Neon God is too big to fall now; too intricately interwoven with our technology, with our minds, to be ripped out from humanity. We let Him in, Miss Aurora. We allowed Him to occupy the Dark behind our sentient eyes. He is us now, and we are Him.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“Hiki Komori stirred Aurora away from the orgy and handed her a clean napkin.

‘Sorry about them. It’s the Rhapsody. To them, the real world is something akin to a cardboard reality.’

‘Why do it at all?’ she pouted, trying to wipe her shoe with the napkin. ‘Why take the damn drug?’

‘To escape their mortality, naturally. The great curtain call frightens them, so they avoid the applause. More so, they perform badly, spitting their lines out in spite. They are embittered and hungry and will no doubt eat your child.

'Yes, the soul of humanity will end in two days. But we’ve buried its body fifty decades before, wouldn’t you think? Come, Miss Aurora,’ he beckoned, ‘the lair of the Dragon runs deeper still.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“The Algorithm was Justice. The Neon God – Judge and Jury.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“Aurora shuddered, her face white with anger.

The only thing worse than having to compete for Gold Stars was not being allowed to compete anymore.

Muting was the Neon God’s favourite punishment, for He loved to hijack human language, almost as much as He loved hijacking perfectly human societal norms.

Judging people on their supposed worth was His favourite pastime, and God forbid you didn’t follow His arbitrarily-chosen set of beliefs, which appeared to change every hour.

Under the Neon God’s law, innocent words such as “powerline” or “screwdriver” had become obscene, trigger words that would most definitely get you muted, thrown in a Mind Prison or killed.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“Aurora took a deep breath.

There it was, she thought, the reason behind all the madness. Why society was acrumble; why she and everyone else were on the brink of starvation. Humanity’s inevitable ending. The Darkspread. The Close. There, in the Golden Dragon’s dark underbelly was where all the maps stopped.

‘Two days from now, the Dark will cover the world,’ she said pensively, trying not to think what horrific sight awaited her behind the spring-loaded door, ‘and the Neon God shall rule over darkness.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“The Neon God is a plague, a global pandemic brought to bear by our hatred and greed. Because of Him, we have lost our soul, our free will, our humanity.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“Only Chromeheads believe the Neon God is a true god.’

‘And yet we treat Him like one, all of us. We worship His Broadcast and we pray for His Justice and sacrifice on His altar each day. When our own eyes deceive us, we make His Jurors into Apostles of Truesight, or rely on worldview-enhancers like that drug Rhapsody or the VVV Visors. Day after day, we find our every thought and action judged by kynikois we can’t see, by arbitrary rules we don’t know, in a reality we rejected. We lead empty lives and so we empty the world of all meaning.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“We created Him, yes. The Neon God is our mess. Our digital hive-mind. Our A.I.,’ said Aurora, watching the man absent-mindedly gape at the ceiling. ‘We built Him to manage our finances, our logistics, our armies, our wealth distribution…. and… and He went crazy.

'Because we filled Him with crappy commercials and stopped maintaining His morals. He’s only like this because of us, all of us. It’s His Algorithm – the one you wrote, the one you keep feeding to Him – we need to watch out for. That’s the Neon God’s soul. That’s His Justice.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“Aurora looked upon a city divided by human perception.

A civil war was ongoing: between those for whom the real world had primacy and those who had chosen Truesight as their truth. To escape the existential horror of their impending finality, people had donned their orange-tinted Veravisum Virtual Visors and locked their fears behind a separate reality. A hyperreality found at odds with everyday life.

The result was a war of visions: between truth and falsehood, between regular people and the VVV’ed. Each party claimed to see reality for what it truly was and more often than not, both parties were right.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“The room they had reached served as an impromptu drug-lounge in which a hundred naked addicts engaged in communal sex. One of them drew nearer and spontaneously relieved himself all over Aurora’s shoes.

‘You’re welcome,’ the addict said proudly, buttoning up his soiled jeans and walking away like a champ.

A nearby woman saw the whole thing and smirked. ‘You’re one lucky lady, you know that?’ she smiled toothlessly. The remnants of today’s orgy were still visible in her mouth. ‘I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“People with beards are just people without beards, with beards.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“And right now, some affiliates of the promiscuous persuasion were beckoning, urging the women to join their huge orgy.

‘Come have a go, ladyships!’ said one of the strumpets. Stella mustered a look so disapproving it made steel feel guilty for being hard. Unabated, the prostitute lit herself a cigarette and winked suggestively.

‘Will make it worth your while and no trouble.’

‘Er.’

The strumpet sucked on her cigarette with gusto and hastily turned to Aurora. Under the heavy theatrical greasepaint, she saw a hint of black stubble.

‘What about you, hon? Ever swallowed a sword with its sheath?’

‘Once,’ said Aurora through a wooden expression. ‘It didn’t end too well for the sword.’

‘Oh leave ‘em be, Kevin,’ another strumpet butted in, as she adjusted the apples in her corset. She had a tall voice, coarse, rugged and edged; the sort of edge you cut protons on. ‘Doncha see they ‘av a lil’un with ‘em?’

‘And I’ve a wife. What’s your point, Steve?’ the drag queen retorted.

‘Yer wife’s a corpse, mate.’

‘Guess that makes me a necromancer.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“THE ANTHEM OF HOPE

Tiny footprints in mud, metal scraps among thistles
Child who ambles barefooted through humanity’s war
An Elderflower in mud, landmines hidden in bristles
Blood clings to your feet, your wee hands stiff and sore
You who walk among trenches, midst our filth and our gore
Box of crayons in hand, your tears tumble like crystals
Gentle, scared little boy, at the heel of Hope Valley,
The grassy heel of Hope Valley.

And the bombs fall-fall-fall
Down the slopes of Hope Valley
Bayonets cut-cut-cut
Through the ranks of Hope Valley
Napalm clouds burn-burn-burn
All who fight in Hope Valley,
All who fall in Hope Valley.

Bullets fly past your shoulder, fireflies light the sky
Child who digs through the trenches for his long sleeping father
You plant a kiss on his forehead, and you whisper goodbye
Vain corpses, brave soldiers, offered as cannon fodder
Nothing is left but a wall; near its pallor you gather
Crayon ready, you draw: the memory of a lie
Kind, sad little boy, sketching your dream of Hope Valley
Your little dream of Hope Valley.

Missiles fly-fly-fly
Over the fields of Hope Valley
Carabines shoot-shoot-shoot
The brave souls of Hope Valley
And the tanks shell-shell-shell
Those who toiled for Hope Valley,
Those who died for Hope Valley.

In the light of gunfire, the little child draws the valley
Every trench is a creek; every bloodstain a flower
No battlefield, but a garden with large fields ripe with barley
Ideations of peace in his dark, final hour
And so the child drew his future, on the wall of that tower
Memories of times past; your tiny village lush alley
Great, brave little boy, the future hope of Hope Valley
The only hope of Hope Valley.

And the grass grows-grows-grows
On the knolls of Hope Valley
Daffodils bloom-bloom-bloom
Across the hills of Hope Valley
The midday sun shines-shines-shines
On the folk of Hope Valley
On the dead of Hope Valley

From his Aerodyne fleet
The soldier faces the carnage
Uttering words to the fallen
He commends their great courage
Across a wrecked, tower wall
A child’s hand limns the valley
And this drawing speaks volumes
Words of hope, not of bally
He wipes his tears and marvels
The miracle of Hope Valley
The only miracle of Hope Valley

And the grass grows-grows-grows
Midst all the dead of Hope Valley
Daffodils bloom-bloom-bloom
For all the dead of Hope Valley
The evening sun sets-sets-sets
On the miracle of Hope Valley
The only miracle of Hope Valley

(lyrics to "the Anthem of Hope", a fictional song featured in Louise Blackwick's Neon Science-Fiction novel "5 Stars".”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“They traversed the lounge, side-stepping the occasional onanist and paying no heed to the slack-jawed, giggling addicts. A few feet away, a young woman had put her tattooed posterior on display. Aurora noticed her tattoos were dynamic, changing like a slideshow each time her bottom was slapped.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“The VVV Visors had the weird knack of twisting your worldview: the more you looked at the world through their tangerine lenses, the more reality distorted and shifted to fit your new point of view.

This made Veravisum Virtual Visors incredibly unreliable, given their proclivity to redact your reality, confirm your private opinions and magnify your cognitive bias.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars

“Sorano returned a half-hearted nod and mumbled on, dreamily.

She seemed completely fascinated by a man in a rabbit costume who kept falling flat on his face whilst endlessly repeating the phrase “How dare they speak the word “motherboard” when the Neon God has no mother?” in a very affronted tone. He was accompanied by swarthy-faced dame, who aimlessly dragged a red piece of string after her.

‘Why are you dragging that string, hey?’ the rabbit-man asked the woman right before taking a spectacular nosedive, face-first into asphalt.

‘But I must drag it, I must!’ the woman replied panicky, ‘for if I try to push it, it bends.”
― Louise Blackwick, 5 Stars