someone randomly meet liz at LA bookstore, they mistook liz as someone who looks like ive liz 🤣
Liz just shyly answered thankyou to them than said she is the real liz 😆
Nayeon's reaction when she pulled the Macaron Rabbit she wanted 😭😂 she's so effortlessly funny and cute 😭😭😭 even the people next to their table laughed at her reaction HHSHAHSHA
260616 ive melbourne send off
"what is this? omg i love it!"
i showed her the hello kitty filter and she said she loved it and posed for meeee😼🥰
#아이브#장원영#IVE
Iginiit ni Vico Sotto na handa niyang iwan ang mayoralty post ng Pasig City kapag natapos ang kanyang termino sa 2028, sa kabila ng kanyang malawak na political clout at influence sa siyudad.
“I think it would be a good thing, pagkatapos ng siyam na taon, take a step back and reassess. That's also why I believe in term limits,” aniya sa panayam sa journalist na si Bernadette Sembrano.
Giit pa ni Sotto, dito rin malalaman kung epektibo ba ang kanyang mga reporma, kung mananatili ang mga ito kahit wala na siya sa puwesto.
#PilipinasToday
#VicoSotto
#PasigCity
PhilHealth is omnipresent in every Filipino’s payslip, taking money whether workers like it or not. Yet in moments of greatest need, it often feels absent.
That’s what happened in the viral case of Maria Lourdes Sulit. Her husband Marvin contributed for over 25 years. When he died of a brain hematoma, PhilHealth declined to cover their nearly ₱200,000 hospital bill.
The reason: a technicality. He was confined for less than 24 hours. Under PhilHealth Circular No. 2020-0007, inpatient benefits require a 24-hour stay. But Circular No. 2025-0020 allows outpatient emergency benefits in cases ending in death within 24 hours. So which is it, then?
Sulit’s case is yet another crack in a system already under strain.
PhilHealth is mandatory under the Universal Health Care Law. Every Filipino is automatically enrolled, meaning every worker is required to contribute—regardless of income, preference, or private coverage.
And that has long been a point of frustration. Ask any tito, tita, tropa, or kakilala, and a familiar story emerges: PhilHealth often covers only a fraction of the bill. Families still shoulder significant out-of-pocket expenses.
Then come the administrative failures: the delays, the waiting, the stress on top of the hospitalization stresses.
Private health maintenance organizations help fill some of the gap. But even they can only do so much, often still leaving families exposed to catastrophic expenses that the public system is supposed to cushion.
And then, there’s the issue that refuses to go away: corruption.
PhilHealth has been repeatedly drawn into controversies involving anomalous claims, questionable reimbursements, and fund management issues that have reached Congress and the courts.
The latest one involved around ₱60 billion in excess funds—transferred to the national treasury. The Supreme Court later ruled that it’s unconstitutional, questioning whether health funds were being redirected away from their intended purpose.
The money has since been restored to PhilHealth, but its image isn’t getting any better. To many, it remains an agency that collects mandatory contributions, yet Filipinos don't get what they pay for.
Calls to abolish PhilHealth continue to surface. Let Filipinos keep their money. Rely on private insurance or personal means instead.
It’s understandable—especially in cases like Sulit’s—but abolition without replacement risks dismantling the country’s only nationwide health risk pool.
For all its flaws, PhilHealth remains the only attempt at universal coverage at scale. Removing it wouldn’t erase the need for protection.
So the real issue is not just whether to abolish PhilHealth, but what must replace or radically reform it.
Our Asian neighbors have made clearer choices. Thailand funds universal healthcare through general taxation, allowing patients to access care with minimal or no out-of-pocket costs. Malaysia heavily subsidizes public hospitals, keeping treatment affordable and predictable. South Korea operates a hybrid system where mandatory contributions are matched with reliable, structured coverage at the point of care.
The Philippines remains stuck in between: compulsory contributions without guaranteed protection, universal enrollment without universal certainty.
Now, the question is no longer whether PhilHealth should exist. Can it continue in its current form when the gap between contribution and protection remains this wide?
Can Filipinos still afford to pay premiums to a system they cannot rely on in a life-and-death situation?
Otherwise, PhilHealth only gives Filipinos hell.
You have noticed it. ChatGPT feels dumber than it used to. Your prompts that worked six months ago produce worse results now. The writing sounds flatter. The ideas sound safer. The internet itself feels like it is shrinking. Every article reads the same. Every email sounds the same. Every answer sounds like it was written by the same voice.
You thought it was you. It is not you.
Researchers at Oxford and Cambridge published a paper in Nature proving what is happening. They call it Model Collapse.
Here is the mechanism in one sentence. AI trained on AI-generated data gets dumber every generation until it forgets what real human data looked like.
The internet is filling with AI-generated content. Blog posts. Articles. Reviews. Comments. Social media. AI companies scrape the internet to train the next generation of models. Which means the next generation of AI is being trained on the output of the current generation.
Each cycle loses information. Not randomly. It loses the rarest, most unusual, most creative parts first. The researchers call these the "tails of the distribution." The weird ideas. The unexpected perspectives. The things that made the internet feel human. Those disappear first.
What remains is the average. The safe. The expected. The bland.
Then the next generation trains on that. And loses more. And the next generation trains on that. And loses more. The researchers proved this is not a slow decline. Major degradation happens within just a few iterations. Even when some of the original human data is preserved.
They tested it on large language models. On image generators. On statistical models. The pattern was the same every time. The output converges toward a narrow, flattened version of reality that looks nothing like the original data.
The lead researcher put it plainly. "Large language models are like fire. A useful tool. But one that pollutes the environment."
The pollution is invisible. You cannot see which sentence on the internet was written by a human and which was written by AI. Neither can the AI that is about to train on it. And once the tails are gone, they do not come back. The damage is irreversible.
This is not a prediction anymore. It is a diagnosis.
The internet you grew up on was built by humans writing things no algorithm would have written. Strange, personal, imperfect, alive. That internet is being diluted. One generation of AI at a time. And the models trained on what remains are learning a smaller and smaller version of the world.
Model Collapse is not a technical problem. It is a cultural one. The thing that made the internet worth reading is the thing that disappears first.