Twitter Videos: “This browser does not support video playback”

This browser does not support video playback.

I've gotten used to switching to a different browser when the above message appears on videos posted on Twitter. Every now and again, though, I get frustrated and spent absolutely ages trying to find a reliable way to get the damn things to play in Firefox or the Firefox-derived Pale Moon, which is my current default browser, but I've never yet had any luck. And the sheer number of search-results leading to other people's attempts to solve the same problem convinces me that it's an extremely common problem.

Proposed solutions generally include all the stuff most of us have already tried before resorting to searching message-boards for answers. Updating flash and enabling or disabling flash or HTML5. Then there's suggestions regarding changing various entries in the about:config page. Some of the discussion gets esoteric to say the least and none of it seems to work. Either you have the problem or you don't, and if you do, it seems that by and large you're stuck with it. So back to opening a second browser then.

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Bobby Vee’s Balls (Ooh! They’re so bouncy!)

Well, t'is the world snooker finals this weekend, so it's also time for my yearly vaguely-snooker-related music post. And it's a Friday, so it's also a chance to resurrect the Friday Night Is Music Night tag. This year's—and this Friday's—theme is "balls." The kind you roll, throw or hit, the kind you dance at, or any other meaning of the word which might occur. So here's my six. As ever, feel free to add your own suggestions in comments.
—Daz

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The Good News

Roll up, roll up, come and hear the good news
From a book we call the Gospel, source of all decent views.
And the good news is that you're not allowed to marry
if your names are Pete and Harry
And you're only good for housework if your name is Anne or Sally
And you need to be told what you can and can't do.
Roll up, roll up, come and hear the good news!

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How Do I Leave Thee? Let Me Count The Ways…

Sez Paul Simon:

You Just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don't need to be coy, Roy
Just listen to me.
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee
And get yourself free.

That's five ways, Paul. Count 'em. Five!

So…

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Vinyl

I'm in the middle of a quite major living-space reorganisation; and all because I needed to make room for some audio equipment.

Some time early last year, my old eighties-vintage hi-fi unit, which I'd been using as an amplifier for the computer's audio output, finally gave up the ghost. Everything bar the amp had died long since, so playing vinyl was summat I hadn't done for simply ages, even by then. And so my music-listening has, for well over a year, been accomplished via the not-exactly-satisfactory medium of a pair of basic desktop PC speakers.

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Brenda’s Birthday

On Thursday, a milestone birthday will occur. My Dear Old Mater will turn seventy-five, gawd bless 'er an' all oo sail in 'er.

Oh yeah, and Brenda will turn ninety. Since I'll likely be a bit more busy with the actually important event, rather than taking part in the National Bowing, Scraping And Fawning Competition, I'll get in my contribution to the celebration of Britain's monarchy now. Six (no, seven, since one's very short) monarchical musical messages. Feel free to add yer own in comments, Gentle Reader.
—Daz

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Bruce Springsteen & The Seeger Sessions Band – St. Luke’s Church, London 2006

One o' them gigs you see on the telly, or run across on You Tube or wherever, and you really wish you'd been there. A thoroughly rollicking show. Enjoy!
—Daz

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In Which The Abuser Forgives The Abused; A Most Peculiar Notion Of Mercy

From Petrograd to Quito, from Yonkers to Siam,
The old man in his bath-chair, the baby in her pram,
I'll let the people know and make them understand
What a mercy-filled and loving, caring deity I am.

First I'll damn 'em all to Hell for things they never done,
Hold that rifle to their heads awhile, then uncock the gun.
When I'm sure they know that there's no place to hide or run;
I'll show 'em I'm a loving god, by torturing my son.

Through pain and gushing blood my divinity will shine;
A beacon to the people, to let 'em know they're mine
To do with as it pleases me, but that I'm of a mind
That should they pray to me alone, I'll forgive 'em for my crimes.

—Daz

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