“I don’t know how anyone can stay home the whole day playing video games and be happy” says random bloggard numberfive. “I would die.”

This is, I gather, the appropriate response when faced with the dichotomy of indolence and industry, the former being regarded by even the most charitable as pathetic, and downright selfish by everyone else. Don’t get me wrong; I am sure that many thousands of years of evolution are echoing in their castigations, and equally sure that the work ethic has a relevance enduring the pre- and post- industrial. Even Lily Allan, in taking a break from slagging off fellow useless celebrities and getting pregnant, weighed in to piss all over the working world: “Why spend a third of my life preparing to work for the next third of my life, to set myself up with a pension for the next third of my life?”

Why indeed, Lily. If the rest of the country is too stupid to be born with a trust fund, they deserve to be worked into dusty old age.

Between the condemnation of vast sectors of society and hauteur of snotty, self-applauding rich kids, the prospective idler is left with no place to go. No place, that is, except the Museum of Bogota, which is holding a celebration of idleness, with the aim of “getting people during the holiday season to think about laziness and its opposite, extreme work, and perhaps reach some balanced conclusion.”

Verily, balance in all things is a healthy thing to strive for. But me? I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.