A hundred years ago we were at the beginning of the age of mass production. Henry Ford was in the process of perfecting the production of enormous numbers of Model T’s as long as they were black. Little did we know it, but this was the first line of a long drawn out and increasingly shameful suicide note, where a new dawn with the prospect of a better, safer, happier way of life has in the intervening century transformed into a rapacious grinder, demanding relentless increases in production to keep it alive. We can now produce so much, so fast, …