Nearly 25 years ago, this reviewer spent quite a lot of time sitting at his computer screen doing unpaid work for the Activision Little computer People Research Group (ALCPRg), not unlike the many hours I spend updating the IMDb nowadays. My purpose then was to keep track of the tiny pixelzed being that had emerged from the circuits of my Commodore 64 to take residence in a luscious two and half story house developed by David Craine and Sam Nelson. In giving the Little Computer Person (hereafter to be referred to as the LPC) a place to live and providing him (they were usually male) with food and drink, the tiny person would refrain from causing glitches and computer hangups - so in effect it worked as some kind of firewall, too. Of course, later on, little electronic pets called Tamagotchi moved out of the computers and into hand held homes, and after that people started to create their own SIMulated communities and even developed Second Lives, but none of those seemed to me as involving as doing LCP research. For I had contributed in some small way to the original LPC project. And here follow some of my findings:
First I filled in my Deed of Ownership and send it in so I was officially registered as a ALCP researcher. Then I studied the enclosed wallchart and pinned it on the wall above my computer. Almost immediately after inserting my fully rewound House-On-A-Cassette (I didn't have the House-On-A-Disc) and running the program, lo and behold, a LPC moved into his new home, taking his dog with him. My LPC spoke two languages: LPS (Little People Speak) and English. The first he would converse in when he wanted me to pay him some attention and when speaking on his phone (presumably to another LCP, for where else could the phone line lead?) This language sounded quite similar to the one spoken by Charlie Brown's teacher. The second he used when writing me letters on his typewriter. He also understood the questions and requests I would type into the space-bar on top of the screen, but usually only did what I wanted if I used the magic word, 'please'.
My LPC had tons of hobby's, including playing the piano, doing his exercised (or aerobics, as this was the Eighties) and watching TV in his recreation area (the attic). He didn't really seem to enjoy cooking very much, being content with the food I provided. The dog meanwhile was LCP's own responsibility, so I didn't need to look after it. And of course he also had a little computer on which he always seemed to be playing Tetris or writing something in WordPad. Now for some reason LCP liked to spend some alone-time in his bedroom closet. Looking back on that now I guess this had to do with the fact that there were so few female LCP's. That is also probably why each LCP responded so well to a virtual pat on the head (Control P for Positive Personality Reinforcement or PPR). Perhaps most amazing of all was the fact that my LCP did something hardly anybody on television ever did: using the toilet regularly. And being a very clean CP, he would always spend twice a longer time washing his hands afterward than he did on the can.
About a year after he first moved in, I decided to execute the Great Experiment and stop feeding my LPC to see how long he would last. Although it pained me to see him turn green and wither away in bed, I kept reminding myself I was merely doing it for the sake of science and not to be cruel. After just a couple of hours LPC started to show signs of dehydration. Slowly he would crawl out of bed, manage to make his way down stairs, take a glass from the cupboard and with a hopeful glance turn to the water bottle, which was of course completely empty. Each time when not a drop came out of the faucet, LPC would shrug, look even sadder than before, and go to the kitchen sink to wash his unused glass. Using far too much tap water than it deserved, as if to make a point. Why he refused to drink the tap water instead of the liquid I was supposed to provide him with I'll never understand. After almost 24 hours of suffering, I just couldn't take it anymore and provided not only food and water, but also the usual gifts of a book to read and a Long playing record to listen to. Of course secretly I had been hoping that another (possibly female) LCP would move in after the original withered away and died, but it was not to be.
Now apparently, if you had the aforementioned House-On-A-Disc, a more intelligent breed of LPC's moved in. These were capable of remembering your name, playing card games, thinking up anagrams and even played different classical compositions on demand. I bet those LPC's would've drunk the tap water in times of need as well. Sometimes when I'm working late into the night, contributing to this site and in the middle of a large update my computer freezes or my LAN connection gives out, I know it's a LPC (or possibly an entire family) telling me to give it up and go to bed. It's at times like these I wished I could provide the little bugger with a brand new two and half story place to stay. Who knows, maybe he'd even help out with some IMDb contributing off his own on his tiny little computer within a computer.
9 out of 10
First I filled in my Deed of Ownership and send it in so I was officially registered as a ALCP researcher. Then I studied the enclosed wallchart and pinned it on the wall above my computer. Almost immediately after inserting my fully rewound House-On-A-Cassette (I didn't have the House-On-A-Disc) and running the program, lo and behold, a LPC moved into his new home, taking his dog with him. My LPC spoke two languages: LPS (Little People Speak) and English. The first he would converse in when he wanted me to pay him some attention and when speaking on his phone (presumably to another LCP, for where else could the phone line lead?) This language sounded quite similar to the one spoken by Charlie Brown's teacher. The second he used when writing me letters on his typewriter. He also understood the questions and requests I would type into the space-bar on top of the screen, but usually only did what I wanted if I used the magic word, 'please'.
My LPC had tons of hobby's, including playing the piano, doing his exercised (or aerobics, as this was the Eighties) and watching TV in his recreation area (the attic). He didn't really seem to enjoy cooking very much, being content with the food I provided. The dog meanwhile was LCP's own responsibility, so I didn't need to look after it. And of course he also had a little computer on which he always seemed to be playing Tetris or writing something in WordPad. Now for some reason LCP liked to spend some alone-time in his bedroom closet. Looking back on that now I guess this had to do with the fact that there were so few female LCP's. That is also probably why each LCP responded so well to a virtual pat on the head (Control P for Positive Personality Reinforcement or PPR). Perhaps most amazing of all was the fact that my LCP did something hardly anybody on television ever did: using the toilet regularly. And being a very clean CP, he would always spend twice a longer time washing his hands afterward than he did on the can.
About a year after he first moved in, I decided to execute the Great Experiment and stop feeding my LPC to see how long he would last. Although it pained me to see him turn green and wither away in bed, I kept reminding myself I was merely doing it for the sake of science and not to be cruel. After just a couple of hours LPC started to show signs of dehydration. Slowly he would crawl out of bed, manage to make his way down stairs, take a glass from the cupboard and with a hopeful glance turn to the water bottle, which was of course completely empty. Each time when not a drop came out of the faucet, LPC would shrug, look even sadder than before, and go to the kitchen sink to wash his unused glass. Using far too much tap water than it deserved, as if to make a point. Why he refused to drink the tap water instead of the liquid I was supposed to provide him with I'll never understand. After almost 24 hours of suffering, I just couldn't take it anymore and provided not only food and water, but also the usual gifts of a book to read and a Long playing record to listen to. Of course secretly I had been hoping that another (possibly female) LCP would move in after the original withered away and died, but it was not to be.
Now apparently, if you had the aforementioned House-On-A-Disc, a more intelligent breed of LPC's moved in. These were capable of remembering your name, playing card games, thinking up anagrams and even played different classical compositions on demand. I bet those LPC's would've drunk the tap water in times of need as well. Sometimes when I'm working late into the night, contributing to this site and in the middle of a large update my computer freezes or my LAN connection gives out, I know it's a LPC (or possibly an entire family) telling me to give it up and go to bed. It's at times like these I wished I could provide the little bugger with a brand new two and half story place to stay. Who knows, maybe he'd even help out with some IMDb contributing off his own on his tiny little computer within a computer.
9 out of 10
