Animal Jam — it doesn’t go with Peanut Butter
Unassuming cartoonish creatures with humongous child-like eye await you in this jungle of cuteness. Undoubtedly striving to save their planet from urban sprawl, they invite you to join their online menagerie.
I created a creature. Creation cost nothing, so far. National Geographic isn’t profit-driven, it it? My online jungle pet started life as a 100 year old-monkey boy with a visible password. Hopefully my brothers and sisters were not looking over my shoulder. Nat Geo didn’t ask for parents permission or proof of age or any identifying information whatsoever.
On the following screen Nat Geo finally asked for ‘My parent’s email .’ They also provided a terse list of rules and a handy check box. A closer look at the Animal Jam Terms of Service reveals some of the more interesting legalese we’ve seen. By clicking on “I Agree” I agreed to limit the damages incurred playing this online pet game to only $5.00. That’s an interesting twist in the land of legal jargon.
It’s a crowded jungle in there.
As with most free online pet web sites, my email address was not validated. After agreeing to the TOS I was dropped into an Animal Jam of epic proportions. New York City on New Years Eve would be less crowded. Oodles of online beasts interacted somehow. It overwhelmed me.
I’m in the Jungle but I’m not a member, yet.
Despite creating a creature, providing an email address, and agreeing to the TOS, I am still not a full-fledged member of the Animal Jam. Something is missing.
Now it comes into focus:
To become a member I will have to put the touch on my parents. Six dollars a month yields some gems and points and a recurring charge on Mom or Dad’s credit card. It’s National Geographic capitalism. Save the Earth one month at a time.
December 27, 2014 / admin / 0