According to the prophecy, "as a dog returneth to his vomit", the Leftards just can't get that gun control bone out of their throat.
So, in a certainly futile but calm and simple explanation, we will fisk their Jurassic Park-level pile of brontosaurus mung once and for all, and explain why there will never be anything approximating "gun control", as they feverishly imagine and fap to in their bedchambers nightly.
The argument will take this on in several parts, all unassailable reasons in themselves, and in the whole, tending to straightjacket the futility of the undertaking with, were we Emperor For A Day, some deserved finality.
I. The Argument from Law
Idiot Mung-Corporal declares: "Let's repeal the Second Amendment"
Which might as well be entitled, "Let's ban oxygen!"
The problem with that clever plan, D-student civics fucktards, is that the Second Amendment to the US Constitution confers no right to bear arms, nor ever has, and its repeal revokes no such right. It merely notes a pre-existing right, because of Natural Law (you should look that up). These were well-understood far and wide in America long before Jefferson penned the phrase "endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights" eleven years before the Constitution was under discussion.
In short, best wishes with that, knock yourselves out, and when you get to the mountaintop, you'll notice there's nothing there.
The Second Amendment only constrains government (and we see how well that's working, 30,000 deliberate infringements later) by design, from interfering in any wise with a natural law right to self-defense, and its means by the most practical current expedients. It's an unalienable right. That means it's irrevocable, untouchable, and baked into your DNA, in perpetuity. It predates the US Constitution by millenia, is wholly untouched and unconstrained by it, and entirely and permanently beyond the jurisdiction of such paltry authorities (by contrast) as the President, Congress, or the Supreme Court to touch, alter, grant, revoke, or deny.
Game. Set. Match.
You can repeal the entire US Constitution, beginning to end, and it still doesn't mean I have to give up my guns. Not even any one of them.
But the attempt, let alone the actual accomplishment, to repeal the amendment would have a very beneficial effect: it identifies the would-be repealers as unmitigated tyrants, and leaves me a clear conscience henceforth when I undertake to send them to Hell, on a shutter. Which will follow, I assure, like night follows sunset.
Which brings me to my next point.
II. The Argument From Mathematics
The entire US military is, currently, some 2,441,886 persons.
All of law enforcement in the US, federal, state, and local, is guesstimated to be around 3 million.
That's every swinging Richard you would have (theoretically) to enforce any such draconian nonsense as a repeal on private arms ownership, or any portion thereof.
For comparison, in the US, in just 2015, there were over 20,000,000 NCIS background checks for private firearms purchases. IOW, in just one year, there were four times as many guns sold to US citizens than the total number of soldiers and cops there are to try and take them away.
From 1999-2018, the number of NCIS checks is over 250,000,000.
Some of them denied a sale, and some of them were for multiple guns in one sale. Some were even to the cops and soldiers in question as well. My SWAG is that all evens out.
TPTB are outgunned - just in the last 20 years - by private citizens in the US, by over fifty to one. Even the monstrously huge US military of WWII, over 12 million troops, was dwarfed by private gun sales in the US in any one year since 2000.
And that's just the last two decades. (Not for nothing was Hopey Dopey's picture on display in countless US gun stores over the heading "Gun Salesman Of the Year" , a record he held consecutively from 2008-2017.)
How many guns total are there in private hands in the US?
No one has any wild idea.
You'll hear or read the conventional SWAG of "300 million guns".
Um, not even close.
A far better number was posited by the late and dearly missed Kevin O'Brien at his WeaponsMan blog, in October 2016. He showed his homework, and his number was
between 412-660 Million guns.
He was being very conservative.
It's probably nearer than farther from one billion guns in American hands.
Legal, illegal, on the books, off the books, whatever. Pistols, rifles, shotguns, black powder. Every one of them just sitting there every day, not decomposing very fast, some as serviceable today as they were a hundred years ago when they were new.
So figure 20-50 Billion rounds of ammunition for them. Perhaps ten or a hundred times that.
Go ahead, Snowflakes. Round them up.
For another metric, the membership in the NRA is only 4-5 million people. Some of those are squishy, and more than a few gun owners won't join the NRA because it is "too soft".
But we'll let those metrics cancel each other out, and call it a draw.
So out of 80-100M gun owners, you decide you're going to target the NRA. On any Monday.
If they decide to say no, and take out one of yours (on the gun-grabbing side) for every one of them you round up or eliminate (because the gun-grabbers saying "kill" seems to upset them), on Tuesday morning the week you start, you have no cops, and no military left, and there are still 75-95 Million gun owners left, armed, standing, and more than a little pissed off at you and your tactics.
Let's be generous: let's assume only 10% of even the NRA are hard-core fanatics.
So you now have a well-armed insurgency, one that's orders of magnitude more wealthy, intelligent, cunning, and oh by the way, able to blend in here, than say, the Taliban, and it only numbers 500,000 people. And rest assured, gun grabbers, they didn't like you very much before you decided to go all George III/Hitler/Stalin/Mao/Castro on them. And unlike the Taliban, all of them are already here. And you've not only announced your tyrannical intent, you've given them every reason to take no prisoners.
And btw, no small number of them are (or have been) the very soldiers and police you think you'll be sending to do the gun round-ups. Doesn't matter if it's only 1% of the latter, you know it's true, and anyone who knows counter-intel and counter-insurgency knows the final solution to that equation:
Your side is totally fucked.
Which all leads, inevitably, to the next point.
III. The Argument From Historic Reality
For every raid you make, you'll take heavy casualties. Of people you can't replace, from people who aren't that keen to take on your suicide mission in the first place. If you execute ten, they'll kill fifty. A hundred. They'll shoot your guys when they're getting a sandwich, or taking a crap. They'll kill them at home, in front of their families. Coming out the front door, riding in a cruiser, hiding under their beds. There'll be nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.
Because they've had it up to the neck with being falsely blamed for every bat-shit crazy Democrat wingnut and the misbegotten foreign jihadis you've imported, covered for, and inflicted on the population, and the blameless absolutely law-abiding gun owners and their innocent tools, by the hundreds of millions, getting tagged for what those jackholes have done - while you dithered. And when they swing back, it's not going to be a wimpy slapfight. You're going to see a civil uprising that would make Antietam Creek look like the punchbowl at a Sunday picnic.
They're going to stop your little party, for all values rhetorically possible for the phrase "Never again."
And then, Snowflake, when they've chewed through your best, then your second-rates, and when there's no one left worth a bullet, they'll be coming for you.
All of "you".
You wouldn't listen at the soap box, you discarded the announcements from the jury box, you've tried to upend the ballot box, and now you want to use the power of the state to use the cartridge box, and you're undercapitalized in a game you were "all in" on. They're going to call your markers, and you'll pay with your sorry asses, in blood. All wagers will be payable at the table, and too late, you'll find out your rhetoric wrote a check you're not willing to cash with your bodies.
Every big-mouth gun-hating politician, every Leftard columnist and TV talking airhead, every yapping SJW on FaceSpace or MyBook or Twaddle. They'll be doxxed, then they'll be found dancing at the end of a wire under a bridge or a lightpost. Their houses will burn down. Their cars will explode. The cities where they think they're strong will go dark, cold, and hungry. Trucks won't run, train tracks will go missing, air transport will get shot down, or shot up, bridges will fall and people will rise. Then all the money, oil, gasoline, and clout your side thinks will run things will disappear like fog on a hot day.
And then, the people who thought you had this thing under control will turn on you, and what's left of you they'll kill themselves, with their bare hands if need be. Just to get the power back on, and the food trucks rolling again. They'll bring us your severed heads on platters as a peace offering, by way of an apology. And I don't mean that metaphorically.
And then President Trump, and the basket of Deplorables who voted him in, will be the most left-wing population this country will see for the next century, at least.
And if you're really, really lucky, we won't keep going, and start cleaning house on a scale beyond just our own borders.
Because once the genie of open societal warfare is out of the bottle, why stop half-way?
I'll tell you why.
IV. The Argument From Politics
As intractably stupid as your Common-Core educated SJW-slurping Team Fucktard is, some few of you can do the math, above.
It's the reason both MLK and Malcolm X told their own side to cool their jets on taking on Whitey, because they could do the math on open warfare at 10:1 odds.
The lesson of history rings eternal: Don't be Custer.
As several hundred Redcoat corpses deposited from Concord to their Boston barracks might have told you, if you'd been awake that day in history class.
So, long before anything I wrote above has a shred of a chance of happening, your own side's few numerate sages will sabotage it. Because they don't like the taste of their own blood, and they don't want to do a jig at the end of a rope. Not on such a lost, hopeless fool's errand as this.
They'll see that it never gets to the starting gate.
So all this noise is just ass-gas to get the retards among you (and believe me, that's a healthy majority of all of you who think this way, going back to forever) all amped up and stupid, because you feel better than you think (when you even bother), and you yell better than you can speak, on your best days.
And all that noise and anger might nudge the needle a bit, and scare the squishes on our side, and get you some paltry sinecure, or minor concessions, just enough for all the morons at the totem pole to yawp and roister about, and claim "Victory!", before you scuttle back to your iPods, iPads, and sustainable algae cake and tofu milk mochalottacrappafrapachinos, while you fap to your imaginary power, and prostrate yourselves before your ignorant Overlords who curate the Hive Mind.
You're the ones that never figured out that TV really is the "idiot box", and whose highest goal in life is to get your 15 minutes of pseudo-fame. The kids in school who ate the book covers for the paste.
TPTB know - mostly they do, anyways - that you're not very bright, which they count on for their positions, but they also have some bare inkling that if you monkeys throw too much feces, the zoo keepers will be coming by, and they won't be using fire hoses this time.
It'll be shotguns.
We're not going to listen, because we've heard you out for eighty years. We aren't going to humor you, we aren't going to haggle over an unalienable right, and we aren't going to discuss this, not for a moment, not one whit. Gun control is off the table. You lost, and it's time to pack up your pathetic whiny rent-a-mobs, roll up the astroturf outrage, and toddle back to mommy's basement, get out of your black hoods, climb back into your footie pajamas, and wait for your nightly cup of hot cocoa.
So maybe, just maybe, fight upstream against the torrent of stupid in your anemic bloodstreams, and STFU.
Before the other side decides it's time to clean up your zoo, for good.
Stop throwing feces, and go back to playing with your bananas.