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Trending | Nimses: when time really becomes money

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Social media applications are perhaps one of the most profitable web services. The more personalized they get, the better. From your generic apps like Facebook or Twitter to specific ones. Every single need you have is translated into some sort of sub-community: dating communities, programming communities, gardening communities, cougars with plastic surgeries gone wrong communities… there’s something for everything and for everyone.

When you look at it, however, you almost never get any monetary profits from your favorite exotic sub-community. Minutes turn to hours and hours turn to days as you surf aimlessly. That’s what Nimses team thought of when they decided to bring the app to life (no I am not sponsored by Nimses, I’m open for negotiations though).

So what is Nimses?

Nimses is an app that could be described with two common sayings:

  • Time is money: Every minute of your life since you subscribe to Nimses turn into a Nim. What’s a Nim? Nim is a digital currency that can be used in various situations. Everything you post on your profile has a value of Nims. Do you want to post a photo for instance? 100 Nims. That may sound pointless, but that forces you to choose wisely.
  • Give and take: every like you get on your posts has a certain Nim value. So your investments can turn out to be quite profitable, that’s why you have to choose wisely. A certain amount of Nims can also buy real objects like shoes, clothing, bicycles…

Here’s a video that could explain the concept better:

The app is not only a reincarnation of your time but of social status in modern societies as well. The Nimses community is divided into statuses that depend on how many Nimses and recognition you have. The more you climb the social ladder, the more influential and powerful you become. Constant contributions are made to maintain your status.

The idea behind the app is genius if you ask me. As long as you’re okay with having a price tag of Nims attached to your profile/life that everyone can see of course. The app is about being smart and choosing to make the right investments.

A swarm of controversy is surrounding the app, however. I may be team Pewdiepie… I mean Nimses, but I’ll shift the focus to the amounts of complaints people have about the application now.

The main complaint in that Nims cannot buy those many goods for now so the currency is sort of useless compared to other Crypto Currencies. The developers are still negotiating with businesses for more available goods, but who can wait when time is money? (1000 Nims= 1$)

The other problem is mainly due to security. Once your account is created, there’s no going back and in that kind of communities, you might want an escape card. Deleting your account is only possible through contacting the support team.

As I said before, your Nims account balance (Nimb) is visible to everyone. So your gender, birthday, location, etc. there’s no such thing as privacy on Nimses.

The final verdict goes to you of course. Nimses is an extremely flawed project with promising ideas and huge potential of changing the way we use the internet. But whether you choose to take the risk or play it safe, you have to enjoy this final video:

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A happy bean in a happy field.

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Maman, j’ai peur!

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Maman, j’ai peur.
Tout le monde me regarde.
Tout le monde veut que la catastrophe s’attarde. Maman, j’ai peur.
Il m’appelle d’une voix douce.
Ses mains avancent et me caressent. Tu m’as appris à être gentil
avec les gens qui sourient.
Alors je me tais.
Alors j’obéis. Maman, j’ai peur. Pourquoi ne m’as-tu pas appris
que mon corps m’appartient ?
Pourquoi ne m’as-tu pas appris
à dire : non, je te l’interdis ?
Maman, j’ai mal.
Mes jambes me disent de courir.
Ma gorge voudrait crier.
Mais le son se brise
contre le silence des grands.
Maman, tu m’entends ?
Où étais-tu
pendant ces deux longues semaines ? Je t’ai cherchée quatorze jours
dans chaque coin de la maison,
dans chaque bureau,
dans les yeux des responsables. Un enfant a besoin de sa mère
comme la mer a besoin de la lune
pour tenir debout
dans l’obscurité.
Maman, je me sens sale.
je porte en moi les empreintes du diables. Lave-moi.
Je veux retrouver mes vêtements d’innocence.
Mais ils ne sont plus là. Qui les a brûlés ?
Est-ce que tonton les a volés ?
Je ne veux parler qu’à toi.
Les adultes baissent les yeux.
Ils me disent d’attendre.
D’attendre encore.
D’attendre toujours. Mais tu es en retard, maman.
Tu me promets
de ne plus partir ?

Un texte de: Emna Harzallah

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