Continuing the discussion from Burnt Toast: That's that Sh* I don't like!:
It would appear that there’s been a misunderstanding, and I’ve some time and inclination to sort it out.
Please note that my comments stem from what was said regarding perfection, which was attributed not just to being alive, but to every thing in existence. It’s patently clear that although “cold, charred-black toast” might be regarded, for many, as a dismal thing when measured on a relative scale, in an ultimate sense, it is perfect. Richard underscored that point adding that “everything”—as in, all things—is perfect. Given that there is nothing—not one thing—out there that is not perfect, then it follows that each and every so-called “abbhorent” thing is not ultimately or truly abbhorent after all, only relatively so. In fact, every relatively abbhorent thing, which includes items like rape, war, murder, taxes, famine, floods, hurricanes, taxes, earthquakes, disease, taxes, black toast, and so on, are ultimately and absolutely perfect as-they-are. Are they not? Now, as to be perfect is to be peerless, pristine, faultless, flawless, impeccable, immaculate, and so on, then “how else” besides enjoyment and appreciation, I asked in my little 
jingle , would one experience those things? In fact, it would be unnatural and unreasonable to not like, enjoy, and appreciate something—anything—that was truly perfect, regardless of how cold, charred, and black it was.
Now, to your point regarding a “common misconception,” I’m aware of the distinction between enjoying and appreciating things and enjoying and appreciating being alive. To be alive is, in short, to be aware that things exist. This awareness or consciousness of things happens to also be a thing, yes, a rather miraculous thing when you think about it, actually, and it’s easy to see how it could be one of those things which one manages to, on occasion, enjoy and appreciate in that relative sense alluded to earlier. Harder—though not impossible—is it to conceive the prospect of enjoying and appreciating such a thing all-day, everyday, without stop, when not seen in that ultimate sense. Let’s face it, the flavor of being alive can vary somewhat. It can be sweet one day and bitter the next. Even if it were like a mass-produced Nabisco pastry, consistent always in its quality and availability—which in some respects that is the case—one’s appetite would still be liable to waver. Heaven knows I enjoy an Oreo from time to time as much as the next kid, but, personally speaking, if I were forced to continually consume it conveyer-belt style, then unlike how it was for Homer J., the initial appeal after awhile could take a bit of a dip.
Life, surely, happens to be one of those things that we are “forced” to consume via conveyer belt, loosely-speaking because there’s always the option to hit the kill-switch, which many do when they can’t stomach any more. Most of course do manage to stomach it, to ride it out, which is to say that they endure it, but that’s different from enjoying it. On the other hand, there are accounts of remarkable individuals who don’t merely stomach life, but relish each morsel and moment of it, providing a reason to be optimistic that others can do the same.
So it is that, depending on one’s predilection and how the cosmic cards are getting dealt, “being alive,” like anything else this universe produces, could be either pleasant or abbhorent when measured on that relative scale. However, it is in the ultimate sense, and only in that ultimate sense, that life—and all things—can be experienced as inexorably perfect and irreproachable, and, consequently, enjoyed and appreciated (beyond the relative and unreliable sense). Happiness is the inescapable consequence of perfection.
RICHARD: As simply as possible, then: it is impossible to be miserable (or in any other way infelicitous) where the pristine purity of the perfection of the infinitude/ absoluteness which this universe actually is abounds … to wit: here in this actual (the world of the senses). [emphasis added]
Accordingly, “where”-ever or whenever that perfection of infinitude is, to whatever degree, neither fully experienced or seen, misery in some form there will occasion to be. The relevance that has for an affective being, who has some capacity to form a connection with perfection, seems significant.
After all the above, and bearing in mind the distinction between the relative and ultimate nature of every thing, do you still think so?
He has remarked on a few occasions that he likes all (presumably flesh and blood) human beings in existence “no matter what mischief they get up to.” Do you think that, with all the mischief they get up to, his active like for human beings cannot extend to mosquitoes too? Especially since mosquitoes are, according to an estimate I made up, 15% less mischievous than human beings.
Think back to your PCEs, was not every thing impeccable and immaculate, in its proper place and exactly where it was supposed to be, and every event faultless and flawless, happening exactly as it needed to happen?
Do you see it now?
Why indeed. The ability to “improve” upon perfection relates to the “bonus” business, which is possible when the immediate is the ultimate, and where the relative is the absolute. Inspiring! 
[Richard]: Doing something – and that includes thinking – is a bonus on top of this never-ending ambrosial perfection of the eternal infinity of this material universe … which infinitude is already always here.
And to make it even more robust, you can feel good not just despite these things but, in a way, because of them. Not because you enjoy or approve of them (as a sadist or masochist), and not because you believe that they’re perfect manifestations of some overall beneficent system (divine or not), but because you’ve understood that feeling good (happy, harmless) is the best way to solve these problems as a feeling being. Other feeling responses, like anger, sadness or compassion, ultimately don’t. They only perpetuate or even amplify the problem.