I've found a way to express my frustration to anti-gunners in a way that they actually understand.
I find a way to equate our conversation with an imaginary conversation I might have about cars to an Amish person.
I first discovered it about 6 sheets to the wind in a Hard Rock Cafe in New Orleans, having been sucked into a conversation with a rabidly anti-gun coworker.
Some of the highlights I can remember:
"This is a conversation we can engage in only if you are prepared to accept a thorough and probably embarrassing verbal ass-beating accompanied by a swift education in things you will soon learn you know nothing about."
Like I said, 6 (or maybe 7) sheets to the wind. . .
The end of the conversation was something like "Well, I am entitled to my opinion!" "Yes you are. And the Amish are entitled to an opinion about cars. It doesn't mean they know anything relevant to my life."
Our manager put a gentle stop to it, but you could tell she was done.