I don't think it's possible for Microprose to produce a genuinely bad strategy game. (I shouldn't say that, because I'm bound to be proven wrong some day, but for now I'll laugh in the face of the Law of Averages.)  Strategy is what Microprose does best, and they've been doing it best for a number of years now. Just look at their track record: Railroad Tycoon, Civilization, Master of Orion, X-Com, AD INFINITUM, AD NAUSEAM. They have a solid reputation, and let's face it – if you don't produce games with ultra-high-res SVGA graphics and a 12 gigabyte opening cinematic sequence you'd better have a damn solid base of repeat customers who spread the word of your company's worth. "Yeah, I know their games don't always LOOK real hot, but you gotta PLAY 'em!" The people at Microprose seem to know what makes a good strategy game, and whether they develop a game first hand or not they seem to exercise some pretty impressive judgment.

	Now that I've said that I find myself in sort of an awkward position in regards to Microprose's newest strategy game, Zeppelin, a title developed for them by Ikarion Software. From a critical standpoint, Zeppelin is a good solid strategy game, one Microprose should be proud to be associated with. But my personal reaction as a game player was completely different. This is where I must divorce my professional side from my personal side, because from a purely personal standpoint Zeppelin does absolutely nothing for me. Thousands of other gamers may love Zeppelin, and I would agree with them wholeheartedly when they spit Zeppelin's selling points in my face. They're absolutely right – it's a good game. I don't like it. I don't like Eric Clapton either. It's just the way I am. I'm not judging it, just stating a fact. It put me to sleep.

	Zeppelin is a strategic business simulation set in the golden age of travel. It concerns itself with the temporary romance with the giant airships originating in Germany, an affair that ended in fire and tragedy with the destruction of Frankfurt Airport's hangars in 1940. For me, that was the first problem right there: I don't care about the subject matter. Yes, the airships were marvels of their time and embodied the romance of luxury travel, but personally they've never meant anything more to me than a cool album cover. Still, I've never dreamt of running a transportation company and I fell for Transport Tycoon with no problem, so I ignored the subject matter and moved on.

	To the manual, which is a critical problem as well as a personal one. I'm a writer, so I'm more prone to noticing bad grammar than most people (even when I use it myself), but you don't have to be an English geek to shake your head in dismay at some of the "sentences" in Zeppelin's manual. Anyone smart enough to understand the game can rip that sorry rag to shreds. To its credit, the manual does give out a good deal of information (Sierra still holds the dubious honor of producing the least informative manual in human history), but it does so blandly and without any real structure. I actually wanted to ditch the entire game just so I wouldn't have to keep reading the God-awful manual. The information it does convey is segmented, and the book makes no attempt to explain how the parts interact. If Zeppelin's interface wasn't simple many people would have remained hopelessly confused. Remember when Microprose manuals had tutorials in them? I do, and I sure wish they'd come back. Microprose has gotten into a rut of writing bad manuals, and I hope they sack the responsible parties and get some fresh blood. Here's a tip: hire someone who just graduated college with a degree in creative writing. Those poor misguided schleps can't find work anyway.

	After dragging myself through the manual my spirits were a little lower, but I still had hope for the game. After all, it was a Microprose strategy game, and I love Microprose strategy games. But after playing Zeppelin for a while I realized that I had gotten into the one kind of strategy game I don't really care for – hard-line economic simulation. Being a business simulation, it should be obvious that your goal is to turn a profit, but the economic model is the key point of the game. As much of your time is spent tweaking your weekly financial report as it is establishing zeppelin routes and researching new designs, and that aspect of the game bored me to tears. I'm not really criticizing the game for that; the economic simulation is actually quite good, with an open feel to it that lets you test out a great many strategies. It just wasn't for me. I know people who get worked into a lather over number-crunching games of this ilk, and to them I recommend Zeppelin without hesitation. That type of challenge is just not my personal idea of entertainment. To me it's more like math homework – word problems, to be more specific, and I've always hated word problems.

	I have what one of my favorite movie characters would have called "an interesting ethical question." On one hand I have a good amount of respect and admiration for Zeppelin, but on the other hand I find it about as entertaining as a televised duck hunt. I think it's safe to say that Zeppelin will appeal to a niche audience rather than to the general gaming public. If you have an interest in very serious business and economic simulations, or if you have a particular fascination with the gigantic airships of old, Zeppelin is a well-designed challenging game that should keep you happily tapping your pocket calculator for many nights. But for those of us who like our entertainment to be a little more . . . well, entertaining, Zeppelin is a dry plodding behemoth that drags time out instead of accelerating it. Bottom line: good game, selective appeal.