How bleak is the Tralfamadorian philosophy anyway?

Billy's Tralfamadorian philosophy is seen by him as extremely comforting, as it gives the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, which in his case is almost everything. Others see his denial to ever try to answer the "Why" question about life as horrifying because it implies that the events of life are entirely arbitrary. The outlook of the book is also complicated because even among the numerous horrifying moments there are many of simple beauty and human goodness, how does it effect these moments if there is no "why" to any of them if they all occur arbitrarily and without purpose.  One thing we have to take into account is that Billy is already an exceptional character, not only is he in no way aware of the narrative and discourse that is applied to war he has almost no agency in anything in the novel. The entire war he is either led around as a prisoner or follows Robert Weary, it's easier for him to just go with the way the moment has been structured.
         While to us the outlook that our lives are arbitrary and that we have no freewill is maybe terrifying it's possible that for Vonnegut and for Billy there is a comforting almost therapeutic power in giving up on explaining  the "why" of such horrible and such deep things. Vonnegut seems to feel some deep responsibility to explain Dresden and to communicate to others what really happened there, abandoning the "why" and leaving the event in some ways inexplicable helps him remove a burden. But this provides us with no framework for making the philosophy comforting for those who are not the damaged remainder of the children's crusade unless we believe that trying to impose some sort of narrative on our life (perhaps this is the duty-dance with death) is inherently stressful and giving up on it, which is incredibly hard to do is comforting. Perhaps rather then being damaged Billy and Vonnegut have simply been given the ability to give up on trying to impose meaning on their lives in a way that would be hard for us.
         I don't think so though because the fact that both titles fit seem to imply the acceptance of both the senselessness of  war and life in general and the necessity of dancing around death, of festooning it, of trying to give meaning to it because ultimately art is the duty dance with death. I think one of the core themes of this novel is reconciling the tension between these two ideas and I don't really have a way of doing that yet. But it's interesting to try I suppose.