It's almost a tradition in the city room of The Herald for journalists to collapse at their desks, having worked, imbibed, and smoked themselves into the grave. On these occasions the behavior required by the dead man's erstwhile colleagues -- a group of cynical old news hounds with skin the color of faded newsprint-- is to applaud, simultaneously hailing their fallen comrade and signaling an opening in the city room. It is in this manner that William...