Virginia Tech happened because the Democrats failed with gun control laws.
Virginia Tech failed because the other students were not armed and able to defend themselves.
Virginia Tech happened because we raise our kids to be wimps and cowards.
Virginia Tech happened because of video games and Hollywood violence.
The best one yet has come from a conservative blogger named Gina Cobb who believes that teaching students young and old to believe in God could've prevented this. A few hours after I read this, NBC revealed the contents of their present from Cho Seung-Hui, in which Hui "rails against… Christianity." Well, there goes Cobb's already ridiculous theory.
I don't think it will be long until someone blames immigrants, as  Seung-Hui's parents came to America from Korea. 
Maybe having someone to blame makes everyone feel better. But finger pointing is useless and most of the time incorrect. Accusing everyone and everything just adds to the thick cloud of sadness and confusion for those involved.
Some of the issues will need to be addressed: the response of campus officials, guns on campus (personally, I wouldn't have been comfortable sitting in a room of armed classmates during my four years), etc. Talk of God and movies related to this case is nonsense. 
The only person to blame is Seung-Hui. It doesn't matter what he watched, listened to, who he dated or was rebuffed by, or whether or not he was quiet or anti-social. He was simply a psychopath.   

Jennifer Leblanc

I confess to ignorance about Imus before he was fired. I never listened to his show, or any other radio show, actually. It took some back reading and summary articles before I could have an opinion: that his sorry a** should've been fired a long time ago. But so should a lot of others.

In the aftermath, the media is looking closely at rap, free speech, whether or not flippant but hateful statements even matter, and what else, or who else, should follow Imus.

Nothing will change. Imus was never the problem — there's no shortage of ignorant old white men with opinions, and there never will be, unfortunately. But there's also no shortage of media professionals willing to employ these men and no shortage of a complacent audience to ignore their racist/sexist remarks.

People are willing to let it go — so what, he was joking, he didn't mean it, get over it, God, you're so sensitive. It's just some casual racism with my morning coffee. It's just a sexual put-down to women that we want our daughters to look up to: women who have the strength, intelligence, courage, and self-respect to never be "hos." 
Maybe if, for all these years, Imus had just been the old coot down the street or your drunken uncle, it wouldn't matter. But when you're paid to say such things, it matters. When millions of people, even those young and just learning right and wrong, are listening, it matters. When others follow in your footsteps and willingly spew hatred for cash and fame, it matters. If you ignore Imus, you have to ignore every other talking head who says something that is just plain unacceptable. The dominos keep falling — ignore what Ann Coulter says about The Jersey Girls or Rush Limbaugh's take on Michael J. Fox, and others fall in line.

In Virginia, a record number of innocent people were killed. Their family member and friends will never be the same. Most of all, the survivors no doubt have the hardest road ahead of them. Instead of support, sympathy, or aid, an Imusite, John Derbyshire, has only this hurtful bit: "College classrooms have scads of young men who are at their physical peak, and none of them seems to have done anything beyond ducking, running, and holding doors shut" (via Time). A blogger named Nathanael Blake agrees with him.

Haven't they ever heard of survivors' guilt? The constantly haunting questions of "Why did I get out and not them? What could I have done differently? If only I hadn't been here or doing this?" It drives people to suicide. Then there are the coming stories of students who did step up, who did fight back, who risked or gave their lives to help the person next to them. But people like Derbyshire and Blake have no problem rubbing unnecessary salt in a fresh, gaping wound.

Journalist Gwen Ifill (in 1993, Imus said of her professional appearance at the White House that they had let the "cleaning lady" in) appeared on "Meet the Press" and spoke about the Imus incident: "…people will say, I didn’t know, or people will say, I wasn’t listening. A lot of people did know and a lot of people were listening and they just decided it was okay. They decided this culture of meanness was fine — until they got caught. My concern about Mr. Imus and a lot of people and a lot of the debate in this society is not that people are sorry that they say these things; they are sorry that someone catches them."

Think of how many there are who are not afraid of getting caught, whose remarks will not be condemned, who will keep their jobs, and who will never have to or want to apologize. Imus apologized and got fired. Does that really change anything? Michelle Malkin, for one, is still getting air time and column space. Countless others like her are on radio, on TV, in print every day saying worse than Imus. And they will be tomorrow and the day after, as long as you let them. Everytime you hear something that you know in your heart is wrong but ignore it, you are no better than Imus. As long as you listen, let the advertisers pay, shrug, don't write that letter or blog post, don't protest, don't act, you're telling these fame-seeking mouthpieces and the world that it's OK.

This is the ugly side of free speech. Yes, I do believe the above mentioned have the right to say whatever they want. It doesn't mean it's right, entertaining, acceptable, unimportant, or worthy of a salary and a spot on any news show.

Jennifer Leblanc

The more time I spend with them, the more I feel that condoms are the worst idea man has ever come up with. And no, it has nothing to do with the “feeling.”

I hate condoms because the little Catholic boy in me gets embarrassed every time I have to buy them. He’s not scared of wasting his seed (Sing it! Every sperm is sacred…), he’s scared of someone knowing about it.

I avoid the subject of “them” as much as possible because “they” embarrass me. When people see condoms, they know exactly what you’re doing. It’s a complete invasion of privacy.

My resident assistant freshman year got so annoyed with my stammering, woebegone way of asking him for free condoms he provided that he said, “Why be embarrassed? You’re getting laid. That’s awesome, you moron.”

But that didn’t make me feel any better. If anything I was even more uncomfortable. (He knew I was having sex…gross.)

Even when I think of my RA’s inspiring words, I still approach the cash register, box of phallus wrappers in hand, and get the same scared, bottom-of-my-stomach nausea. More and more I think this is my body’s physical reaction to the embarrassing-but-true reality that I am feeling judged by the clerk.

You probably don’t think about it too much, but the clerk at your grocery store knows more about you than most people. He or she knows what kind of food you put in your body, your favorite toothpaste, and now your sex life (I can only assume that they also giggle about your KY Warming Liquid as well).

It’s too much to imagine they know all of that. Some of my best friends have no idea.

I will concede that the clerk probably doesn’t care about me personally, but still, with all of the talk about “keeping it in the bedroom,” it does suck. Just imagine their thoughts: “Frozen pizza…peanut butter…box of Trojans? Who’s sleeping with this idiot?”

Terrifying.

The only idea worse would be if the clerk were actually depressed about the situation. What if they saw me there with condoms and thought, “Why am I alone?” That’s the type of thing that puts Woody Allen on a psychiatrist’s couch every week.

I worked at a McDonald’s for nine months and, believe me, we judged people all the time. A person with that expansive double-ass (where the front and back are equal orbs) would get ridiculed for hours after they left. I add in the knowledge of that person’s sex life, and I don’t want to imagine the things we’d have said.

My girlfriend asked me about why condom purchasing made me nervous (as I talked her into buying them instead) and, when I was done telling her, she stared at me for about 30 seconds before calling me an idiot. And she’s right. I shouldn’t be embarrassed about practicing safe sex.

But think about this if you agree with her: The clerk at the grocery store has a tattoo on his neck that says “Maddog.”

If you’re OK with that guy knowing about your plans, then buy up.  Then could I just have a couple?

Patrick Duganz