News & Opinion

Also: The IMA’s recently wed director, Charles Venable, announced his organization’s opposition this week to the proposed gay-marriage ban.

Crusader of the Year: U.S. Attorney Joe Hogsett. No one made more big cases in the past year—and his savvy press people made sure we all heard about the exploits. The crime-fighter still has plenty of fish to fry.

He worries that the controversy has gotten to the point where he and like-minded supporters of a ban are considered “bigots.”

The measure must win simple majorities in both Statehouse chambers again this year before the question is popped to Hoosier voters. Let the pots and pans fly.

@EdWenck: “HJR 6 is now HJR 3. And it appears to have a … partner?”

New is companion bill HB 1153, which seeks to explain some vague language and make it more coherent for Hoosiers if the resolution reaches voters in November.

It seems one Indy resident can forecast the weather far in advance of any meteorologist. Plus, it’s three days after the city’s volatile snowstorm, and grocery-store racks continue to tell the tale.

Says Jim Borthwick of Noblesville, “Notice the close attention to detail, the cerebral forehead of Peyton [Manning] and Andrew [Luck]’s glorious neckbeard.”

@TheJennaBee: “All I hear is cannons. I can’t tell if the Colts won or if the revolution has started.” @CrayonWayans: “It means tributes have been killed in the Indy Hunger Games.”

For Kristine Bunch, prison was not hypothetical. It was her life—unjustly, she maintains—for more than 16 years before she was able to gather enough evidence, with the help of Northwestern’s Center on Wrongful Convictions, to convince appellate judges she had been wrongly imprisoned for arson and the murder of her son.

As AP reporter Tom LoBianco churned out hit after hit, politicos quietly talked about how he was able to get so much dirt on Tony Bennett. But the blogosphere erupted with more pointed talk of foul play by the Glenda Ritz administration.

We’ve become accustomed to leaving the bed with what appears to be a temporary crime-scene drawing of our bodies imprinted on the mattress.

Including one of Indiana’s biggest cons, a complicated woman in her final days, a reality-TV hilljack, the crafty governor-elect, a big-deal farmer, the coupling of an actress and a corn-fed rocker, and more.

The Hoosierist always figured television station call letters were burped out by a computer in the basement of the FCC’s headquarters. Boy, was he wrong.

When I start my third party, I’ll have to suck up to some rich people to get their money. I don’t ordinarily like spending time with billionaires, but I’ll do it for the good of the country.