Little Computer People

Your SinclairYour Sinclair Megagame

Graphics 7/10

Playability 0/10

Value For Money 9/10

Addictiveness 9/10

Overall 9/10

Rachael Smith 9/10

Activision £9.99 Reviewer: Rachael Smith Dear Gwyn, How can I tell you this? There's somebody else in my life. His name's Neal and though he's rather short, he's got everything I've ever wanted... including a place of his own. I don't know quite how it happened. He looked like just another casual acquaintance - but soon after he moved in, I knew that our relationship was to be more personal. Neal wasn't just any old collection of bits and bytes. How can I describe him? He's musical, so I give him lots of records, and if I ask him nicely, by typing in a message, he'll play the piano for me. He's pretty good at it too. He likes to read books and you can tell how kind he is by the way he takes care of his dog. People say that it'll only end in tears, that we'll never really communicate, but what do they know? So what, if when he answers the phone he sounds like a hyperactive budgie in a pressure cooker. He sends me the most beautiful love letters, keeping me up to date on what he's doing and thinking. In exchange I leave food for him and the dog, and re-fill the water supply. And yes, it's true (dare I say it?) .. our relationship is becoming increasingly intimate. Physical even! He likes nothing better than sitting in his favourite armchair while I (don't be ashamed - nothing is abnormal in a mature relationship) extend a mechanical hand and... stroke his neck! In exchange he plays games with me. He's a master at anagrams and when it comes to simple card games, he's a little devil. But best is poker. We'll play for hours. Okay - he insists on being the dealer every time. So what? I like a man who's masterful, even if he is only two centimetres tall. After all, it's not the size that counts. I find myself spending more and more time with him, spying on his everyday activities, whether he's watching TV, playing with his computer or working out upstairs. If only we could share those bedroom aerobics, but he never seems to tire of my observation, the little exhibitionist! I admit that he may not be that good looking. In fact, he's very pale compared with his cousins from Commodore Court. But what does that matter when I see him smile because I've just given him a good rub? And if I ever neglect him he gets so dejected and types such pitiful letters that it breaks my heart. Most of the time he appears to be walking on air though - and I'm sure it's because of me and not just a programming quirk. There's only one thing that worries me. Sometimes he vanishes behind a door and reappears looking happier than ever. I hope it's just paranoia but, you don't think... has he got a little computer bit on the side? if he ever cheated on me I'd... I'd pull the plug on him! Still, I'll stick by him, because I've never seen anything like him before. Of course it may just be infatuation, caused by the novelty of it all. But there's something so cute about him that I'm content to sit and marvel for the time being. I'm sorry, but this is goodbye.

If you find your LCP becoming a couch potato, slumped in front of Crossroads, use the doorbell to stir him up. But don't ring and run too often, or he'll begin to sulk. This is the music room, with both a piano and a hi-fi. If you've got a budding Beethoven, your LCP may do requests - though, 'Stop that row!' probably isn't one of them. You must always be polite! The all-important filing cabinet. This contains the typing paper - LCP's need to communicate - and the cards. For messages, or when you play games, this top storey turns into an information window. Every time you visit your LCP, you enter the date and time, so that this wall clock can tick away in real time. Every Little Computer Person has a computer of his own - with an Even Littler Computer Person living in it? If you ask him to 'Logon, please,' you can then save the current data, ready to recommence at a later date. The front door. Don't worry if your LCP pops out for a moment. Once he's established himself in his new home, which can take about ten minutes as he gives it the old estate agent once over, he's unlikely to leave. Not... the comfy chair! Use the P key to get him here, then press it again to scratch his neck. Of course, if you're a sadist, you can press it once then leave him standing there (Nyak, nyak, nyak!) Make sure your LCP has a well stocked larder, or he'll get decidedly peaky. Starving his dog won't cheer him up, either! Clever graphic design keep attribute clashes to a minimum, so though this conversion lacks some of the original's detail, it's still pretty neat. One of LCP's characteristics is cleanliness. Behind this door is the loo - and don't worry, they all shut the door first - but does your little person always wash his hands afterwards?

Read it at Your Sinclair Rock'n'Roll Years

ZX ComputingZX Computing Globella

Overall Great

NOW YOU CAN INVITE LITTLE COMPUTER PEOPLE TO TAKE UP RESIDENCE IN YOUR 128. Activision £9.95 (128 only) Originally sighted inside the Commodore 64 it now appears that the Little Computer People have started to crop up in other places as well, namely 128K versions of the Spectrum (apparently there's not enough room inside the 48K models - they may be Little Computer People but they're not that little). But what are these little beings (LCPs as they are sometimes called?). The first LCPs were observed by American programmer, David Crane, who had suspected the presence of tiny human beings within his computer for some time when he created what he called a 'house on a cassette'. Loading this cassette into the machine created a small home inside it, empty and just waiting for someone to come along and live inside. When you load your own 'house' into your 128 or Plus Two you are first of all presented with a notepad into which you enter your name, the date, and time of day. This, and other information about your LCP is continually updated and carried over from session to session. Once we had gotten our own Plus Two loaded up, we all found ourselves sitting in front of the Spectrum, staring at the empty house on the screen. After a couple of minutes a small head stuck its way around the front door, then an LCP entered to give the place the once over. This was Drew, a cool looking LCP sporting sunglasses and bow tie, who proceeded to take up residence (accompanied by his Little Computer Dog). Once your LCP is in, you've got a choice: you can sit back and do nothing and just watch him (yes, him, I've yet to hear of any sightings of LCP-esses which, by implication, gives rise to all sorts of interesting questions) wander around, or you can send messages or perform various actions via the keyboard. Left to himself, Drew seemed perfectly happy to go about the house cooking, listening to his stereo, tinkering with his computer or even doing aerobics. You can sit and watch for ages and your LCP will get on with things on his own. Watching this is a bit like playing with worry beads - ultimately pointless, but quite calming somehow. However, like all intelligent beings, your LCP has certain needs which have to be met - food and drink have to be supplied by you, via the keyboard, and when he gets a bit or lonely it's up to you to cheer him up as best you can (perhaps by playing cards or anagrams with him). There are certain actions which you can always rely upon, such as giving him a new book or record to play, but there is enough scope within the program to allow you to experiment and discover how best to get on with your LCP just as you would do with any other person. Remember though, that if you neglect your LCP he's likely to go green and take to his bead with a terminal cause of the sulks, so it's your responsibility to look after him. Little Computer People is thoroughly ingenious and a genuine oddity. It's an entertainment of sorts, though it's not a game. In a way it can almost be described as the computer equivalent of background music, except that it offers you the opportunity to get involved with what's going on. It can't be recommended to a specific audience in the same way that an adventure or arcade game can be, but if you've got a 128 or Plus 2 why not say hello to a Little Computer Person sometime. Who knows, it could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Sinclair UserSinclair User Classic

Overall 5/5

Graham Taylor 5/5

Label: Activision Author: David Crane Price: £9.99 Memory: 128K only Reviewer: Graham Taylor Mine's called Fido but he doesn't seem to care. Fido is my Little Computer Person. I found him in our Spectrum - the one with the wobbly interface - maybe the rent was lower. I talk to Fido, I ask him to write me a letter and he does. It is complete drivel. He rambles on and on about how happy he is in his new computer home and how much he likes his dog. He's the sort of person you'd avoid at parties. You can pet Fido when he sits in his petting chair, extending a little hand out which pats his head. You can give him presents of books and records. You can play simple card games with him you can keep him well fed and watered. You can be kind and treat him as your own little friend. Or not. If you are unkind your little computer man starts to suffer. At first he types you plaintive little letters gently suggesting that he is a little hungry. Wait a little longer and the letters become more desperate, more pleading. Eventually your little man retires to bed and turns green, he refuses to do what you ask and looks generally as though he's downed one vindaloo too many. Little Computer People is American. This will come as no surprise since the whole thing is, in one way, a computer equivalent of Cabbage Patch Dolls over which mid-western housewifes drew blood. The thing is, despite being desperately twee in places. Little Computer People is also unique, very well programmed and - in the short term at least - utterly captivating. It will only work on the 128K Spectrum, the original was a disc-based exercise on the Commodore. This means two things: firstly, the Spectrum 128K version takes ages and ages to load, and secondly some of the features of the game which were especially clever on the Commodore used the instant access disc provided. For example, the beginning of the game is a 'moving in' sequence where the computer man 'arrives' at your computer and wanders around aimlessly looking at his new home. This only ever happens once on the Commodore if you want to avoid it you have to Save the game on tape. Fido is also naked on the Spectrum. Because otherwise different coloured bits of him would create wonderful attribute problems. It's something I can live with. I'm broadminded. The programming is still pretty remarkable. It's the attention to detail that makes the program. You set up a clock at the beginning of play (?) and a clock in the Little Computer Person's house keeps regular time from then on. The record player actually looks like it's going round and round. Fido can nod, do aerobics, walk around, look happy, sad or indifferent, watch the television (which flickers and, judging by the sound, shows very violent programmes), play some simple games or play with a computer. He can even go to the bog and take a shower (shielded from one's gaze fortunately). Sound is another key part of the program, important enough to mean that even if this program could be reduced to 48K it wouldn't be worth playing without a decent sound chip to simulate Fido playing the piano or playing records. Fido's taste in music leaves quite a lot to be desired and I recall with envy a Little Computer Person on the Commodore you used to play bizarre electro heavy metal. Music is not the only reason for sound, sound effects of various kinds add greatly to the sense of detail in the program. For example Fido's footsteps are different depending on whether he is walking across carpet (fump, fump) or linoleum (eep, eep). Fido also talks - a strange language made up of bleeps and whistles, heard when Fido chats on the phone (but to whom?) I spotted one bug though - he keeps chatting even after he puts the phone down - a sure sign of insanity. This is an excellent conversion, and even though much of the cutesyness of the idea irritates me, it's so well done that I think Little Computer People is a genuine and important step forward in artificial intelligence. Oh yeah, in the end I just couldn't bring myself to kill Fido - after he failed to respond to my suggestion that he eat the dog I fed him.

Crash

Presentation 83%

Graphics 72%

Playability 87%

Addictiveness 40%

Value For Money 53%

Overall 57%

Ben Stone

Mike Dunn

Paul Sumner

Producer: Activision Retail Price: £9.99 Author: Richard Gold All this talk about the new Plus 2 and 128 machines having compatibility problems is apparently a cover-up. What has really happened is that the computers have been invaded. Little Computer People (LCPs) have found their way into the machines and are tap dancing all over the data bases and really messing things up. The only way to restore order amongst all this chaos is to tempt the little de-bugger out of the works and on to the computer screen. The way to do this is to provide him (they're all male, for some strange reason) with an environment he feels at home in. ACTIVISION have tried to do just that. Each LCP has a different personality, but something they all have in common is their desire for friendship. Being locked away in all those nasty chips is no fun at all, and LCPs like nothing more than having their hair ruffled, or playing a game of cards with their human companion. To keep the little chap fit and healthy, he needs regular supplies of food and water and some dogfood for his canine chum. The House That ACTIVISION built arrives on cassette, and loading it in equips your computer with all that is needed to cater for even the fussiest LCP. The top floor contains a television, stereo, typewriter and piano (most LCPs are brilliant pianists). The middle floor contains the bedroom, bathroom and computer room, and the ground floor contains his kitchen and sitting room. The LCP leads a very active life, and occupies every minute of the day by pursuing one of his hobbies. Every morning he goes through his work-out routine to keep in shape; he watches television, plays with his computer, phones friends and even dances to his favourite records. An LCP communicates with his human friend for 'owner') in a number of ways. He bangs on the inside of the computer screen when he feels that you're not paying him enough attention, and if he's feeling particularly verbose, he may even type you a letter! in this way, keeper and LCP start to build up a rapport and become good friends. Paying lots of attention to the LCP is the best way gain his confidence. LCPs love presents, and by using the relevant keys gifts of all sorts can be left at the door for collection. If, on the other hand, the LCP is ignored, he becomes very depressed. In serious cases of neglect, if he goes without food or water, he turns a nasty shade of green and goes to bed. Ignore him for too long, and your high-tech 'pet' is likely to fade away forever. A Little Computer Person needs a lot of attention, but at least he doesn't leave stains on the carpet or scratch the furniture... COMMENTS Control keys: (in conjunction with EXTENDED MODE key), F deliver food, W more water, A alarm, D deliver dog food, C ring phone, P scratch back, R deliver record, B deliver book Joystick: N/A Use of colour: colourful, if a bit messy Graphics: a very desirable residence Sound: effects, depending on what your LCP is doing Skill levels: one Screens: one

Cameron's Little Computer Person grooves to the beat on the top floor of his house.

Sitting comfortably in the armchair, LCP phones a friend - you'll never understand his language!