<!--
	Title: (Reviews) Bureaucracy
	Author: Ervin Bobo
	Source: COMPUTE!'s Gazette, v5(7)
	Date: July 1987
	Transcription by Steve Derby
-->

"Students who exchange digital watches with multiple partners increase their
chances of contracting bubonic plague by 300%." This quote is from *Popular
Paranoia* magazine, to which you'll probably want to become a subscriber
after playing a few rounds of *Bureaucracy*, Infocom's latest excursion into
interactive fiction.

This time, however, it may not be fiction. They really are out to get you, to
make your blood pressure rise to the point of apoplexy, to shatter your
complacency, to hold you forever in a gridlock of red tape, to make you a
nonperson.

And all because you probably mishandled your change-of-address card.

Designed by Douglas Adams —- author of *Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy* —-
*Bureaucracy* is said to have been inspired by an experience Adams once
had when he found out his bank had invalidated his credit card. In this game,
the offending institution is the Fillmore Fiduciary Trust, a savings and
loan/bank card/moving and storage company, which seems to control almost
everything, everywhere. You begin the game by filling out a software license
which —- in mixing up the usual order of requested information, such as last
name, least favorite color, name of previous friend, first name, and so on -—
sets the tone for the game.

Although the parser will take this information and blend it into the story,
you'll find it continually confusing your gender and, from time to time,
confusing other items of information, given that modern bureaucracies are made
possible by computers, and that computers are notoriously inept at processing
information.

What is surprising is that your transfer to a new town and a new job
hasn't gone quite as smoothly as you had expected. Because the change-of-address
card has somehow gone astray, you find yourself in your new home bereft
of all possessions save those few you carried with you. The moving and
storage company experienced a glitch in the flow of information, but having
been informed of the mistake, has promised to set things right within a week.

Perhaps it won't matter. In your possession is a letter from your new
employer informing you of a training meeting in Paris. Following the training,
you'll have a full week to enjoy yourself in the City of Lights, and all
your possessions should certainly be in place by the time you return.

All you must do is visit the offices of Happi Tech and get to the airport to
board the plane to Paris. This is, of course, an easy task to accomplish. It
only becomes difficult when you find that, as a result of the mishandled
change-of-address card, you have become a nonperson. You'll find yourself
contending with a macaw, who may be guarding important mail that should
have been delivered to your new home. There's also a contemptuous travel
agency clerk who is more than willing to ruin your vacation, a deaf old lady
with an elephant gun who may be part of a conspiracy, and other assorted
characters, all of whom seem intent on making your blood pressure rise.

<blockquote style="text-align: center; border-top: 0.25em solid; border-bottom: 0.25em solid;">

*As* Bureaucracy *is played, your blood pressure is displayed at
the top of the screen.... Any irritation, even that of
misspelling a word or of using a word the parser cannot
understand, will cause a rise in pressure.... Your actions in the
real world directly affect your character in the game.*

</blockquote>

As *Bureaucracy* is played, your blood pressure is displayed at the top of
the screen. When you enter a stressful situation, you'll hear a beep and see a
message that your blood pressure is going up. To lower the pressure, you must
make less stressful moves, giving the game a quality in common with biofeedback
machines. Any irritation, even that of misspelling a word or of
using a word the parser cannot understand, will cause a rise in pressure, and
this has the effect of making you more directly involved with what would
normally he happening only inside your computer. Your actions in the real
world directly affect your character in the game.

As written for the Commodore 128, *Bureaucracy* is self-booting and requires
an 80-column display monitor. Although the program uses both sides of
the disk, it was written to be compatible with the 1541 disk drive, making it
necessary for you to turn the disk over at one point during the loading process.

Even though many of your typed-in commands will require your computer
to access the disk before replying, the process seems quick. Further, Infocom
seems to have improved what was already one of the best parsers in the
field, making it possible for you to type in commands such as, "Take the
equipped card from the case and put the card in the cartridge slot."

Documentation is something Infocom has always taken seriously, and
they show this by including documents. For *Bureaucracy*, the documents
consist of a pamphlet on moving (courtesy of Fillmore Fiduciary Trust). Had
you read the several pages of instructions on the proper way to fill out a
change of address form (included) and used the proper pencil (also included),
you'd not be in the mess in which you now find yourself. There's also a
prospectus for *Popular Paranoia* magazine, which includes the little-known fact
that the state of Delaware is fictional. For those new to Infocom adventures,
there's also an extensive section dealing with how to play the game and how to
communicate with the parser. Older hands may jump right in, exercising
their eagerness to experience frustration. At the end of the game, you'll be
given your score, the number of points you achieved out of a possible 21.
There's also a brief summary of the results of the final move, and if any of
these have resulted in your death, either from a stroke or other process,
you'll at least have the consolation of knowing that your blood pressure has
now been lowered to zero over zero.

*Infocom<br>
125 Cambridge Park Dr.<br>
Cambridge, MA 02140<br>
S39.95*
