
Outside, I was suddenly accosted by a beautiful Russian girl who introduced herself as Tatiana and admired my trousers. (Actually pj bottoms; black with white lip prints all over them-) I thought for a giddy second that it was Be Kind to Hideous Bi-Curious Old Boilers Day or something, but she proceeded to foist some photocopied excerpts from something called THE KNOWLEDGE BOOK upon me. I haven't really looked at it yet, but it seems to be some very complicated religious cult thing. Oh well...
I popped into Canada House, which has become so scary, with all the heavy security. I wasn't frisked this time, but my trolley was examined with great efficiency. Only the weeny little gallery which was displaying some contemporary Inuit art pieces was open to the public, and you're not allowed to walk through the building any more. You have to go out the way you came in, with button-pressing, under the scrutiny of the security bods. By that time, I'd actually had my shot of culture for the day, so skipped the ICA's KEEP YOUR TIMBER LIMBER willy-waving 'works on paper.' It's just opened, so there's plenty of time.