SHIM is the offcut you slide under the corner so the whole floor can pretend it was built straight. Fixed at one billion. No second print run.
A shim is a scrap of brass, steel or folded beer can that costs nothing and holds up everything. Nobody specs it, nobody photographs it, and it never appears on the drawing — but pull it out and the lathe walks, the door binds, the whole floor goes out of true. SHIM is a token about that scrap: one billion units, fixed, paired against WETH in a pool whose liquidity is locked, 1% of every swap going back to the pool, graduating once 4.2 ETH sits paired against it. There is no treasury, no vesting cliff, no roadmap with four quarters on it. The joke is in the mark: you drive a wedge into the gap, and the gap that is left over is the same wedge, smaller. That is the entire mechanism of every fix anyone has ever shipped.
Read it the way you would read a shim pack: the number that matters is the one you can measure. 4.2 ETH paired is the graduation threshold, not a price target. The 5% cap applies during the first two blocks only and then it is gone — after that the pool is the only thing standing between you and your own decisions.1
Add the network in your wallet and bridge enough ETH to cover the buy plus gas. Wrapped ETH is the other half of the pool, so ETH is the only thing you need to arrive with.
Check the contract against the address printed in section 06 before anything else. If the two strings differ by one character, stop. There is always a second listing with a better chart and a worse contract.
During the first two blocks no wallet may take more than 5% of supply — 50,000,000 SHIM. Ordering above the cap gets you a failed transaction, not a bigger fill.
Confirm the swap, then read the pool back: your balance, the 1% fee taken, and the ETH now paired. Write the number down. The whole point of a shim is that somebody measured it.
There is a machine shop with a floor poured in 1974 by a crew working in February, and it came out of the forms two and a half inches low in the northeast corner. The grinder installed over that corner would not hold tolerance, so the millwright cut a wedge out of 0.4 mm brass sheet and slid it under the near foot. The grinder came true. Nobody wrote it on the drawing.
Here is the part people remember. The millwright scratched his name into the brass before he drove it in — R. ODELL, 3RD SHIFT — because he expected somebody to find it. Nobody did for thirty-one years. When the building was resurveyed the crew found that every elevation in Bay 3 had been referenced, decade after decade, to the top face of that unrecorded piece of scrap. The brass was the datum. The concrete was just what was nearby.
They left it in. It is cheaper to keep the wrong reference than to re-level a building around the right one, and it is still under there, holding the grid, uninsured and unlisted. SHIM is named after it: one billion units of the thing that holds up the thing that gets the credit.
0x0000000000000000000000000000000000000000