What, if I may ask, are we modeling for our friends and strangers?
Here's a conscious movement we could give a twirl — you know, see how it fits: invite the possibility of pleasure. You don't even need any expertise (imagine that, no skills or preconditions). Start obvious: smell a flower. Eat it a little. Got no flower? What do you have? Smell that. You could find yourself sedated. Maybe repulsed. Indifferent. Tantalized.
Been there, done that? What, nothing new under the sun, you ole spoilsport? Perhaps we could consider ignoring what we think we know. Excuse ourselves from the vile company of certainty. Maybe what we think is lying around in the attic is gone. Maybe it was never there.
Pleasure is continually disappointed, reduced, deflated, in favor of strong, noble values: Truth, Death, Progress, Struggle, Joy, etc. Its victorious rival is Desire: we are always being told about Desire, never about Pleasure.
Right on Papa B. Next time pleasure presents itself, let it linger. Maybe we'll find something worthy of our busy schedules.