Smithson’s Flats were rundown and pathetic – stinking of piss and smoke, with creaking stairs and walls with wires hanging loose. Naked bulbs replaced lamps and the place was generally avoided by the higher classes. Now, among buildings blasted by fire and chemicals, it is in no worse state than any other building around it. Perhaps it is in a better state – for the Cigarettes have made this their base. Two miniature wind turbines power the place, and white ribs of cloth hand everywhere to show the world just who owns this place.