@BillRM,
Quote:The law must be magical after all.
Obviously. Only lip service, and that only when convenient, is paid to old mouldering documents making law. Men make law not things. The old mouldering documents were made by men. That's not law in any philosophical sense.
Evolution is the only law. And we only live by that to row the boat ashore. There are no evolutionists. There are only codologies.
This argument is a codology. No state lives up to the 2nd as Dave wishes they all should. Everybody, kids, felons, nuts, should be able to pack what they want, when they want, otherwise Federal or State is interfering with their rights under the 2nd and that is unconstitutional. And once unconstitutional interference is permitted then it's only a matter of degree and thus subject to all sorts of interests and only rhetorical dominance wins the argument.
There are no principles involved* and anybody invoking any is soft in the head. Or thinks we are. The latter being the saner option
*Excepting Dave's self preservation principle and the one presenting a person as more powerful than he actually is in the evolutionary sense.
As Mr Obama said about your success not being down to you. It's having a ride on the coat tails of the industrial revolution to fake looking powerful. Like ladies' fashions do for those who follow buffalo marriage customs at the other end of the market. One lot tup and the other lot prance.
And look what happened to buffaloes. They developed bones in their foreheads so thick that brains had to be reduced to the very minimum. And prancing (this is good innit-I don't know what I'm going to write next at this point) does not have such a drawback and thus the battle of wits becomes a pushover and the bones in the forehead get even thicker and the push becomes a shove and the shove morphs quickly, in the context of unimaginable time as Mr Darwin called it for want of a more precise term, into a slide down a slippery slope.
The gun nuts are feminist stooges. They are on the wrong side of history unless we go into reverse and retrace our steps.
"Wor a load of wallies" the lads in the pub would say on Sunday lunchtime when they are going home to some proper prancing around the stove with the rattling pots and pans Bill Haley made so famous.
"The last rasping gasp of the mantis' groom" as Bill Greenwell had it. He's a poet. Poets use language lasers.