I’ll be honest, the introductory portion — the part leading-up to the transcript of the Zoom conversation – is so not to my taste I had no interest in reading any further.
You either like the Lyle Fass / Jon Rimmerman style of wine writing, or you don’t. Personally, I don’t, but I don’t hold it against others who do.
Whoa! That’s long!!! I should start a poll on how many people can read the whole thing.
Wow, you definitely did not understand the introduction!
I have read it twice so far.
I’ll always accept a lack of understanding as a possibility …
Allow me to quote some passages:
" After all, an object (and Terry would change “object” to “being”) of beauty deserves to be written about beautifully." — “deserves” 
… give me a break. It’s wine. It’s a thing. And to call it a “being”?!? LOL! NOT my cup of tea.
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“Wine can obtain the status of a “being” with which we may engage in a nexus of freedom to respond to its ethereal and spiritual possibilities.” 
… maybe I just haven’t had enough weed brownies or sage smudges yet today …
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And there are a couple or few other single words thrown-in at other spots that make me roll my eyes, too, but I’m guilty of the same sometimes, so I’m giving those a pass. But I did notice them.
… and I say this as someone who has actually historically enjoyed Thiese’s writing, and as someone whose own wine writing is admittedly dryer than a desert. More than anything else, when it comes to wine writing, I want information. Throw-in some stuff about feelings and/or personification – that’s fine, and often enjoyable – but if that’s all it is – feelings and personification – I likely won’t find that writing useful to me. YMMV.
Two examples that define the boundaries of my “Love” and “Hate” w/r/t wine writing:
Hate: Rimmerman
Love: our own @Otto_Forsberg
I loved it! Being prosaic can be great.
How do I drink thee? Let me count the ways.
I drink thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I drink thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I drink thee freely, as men strive for right.
I drink thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I drink thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I drink thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I drink thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but drink thee better after death.
Why?
Chuck Norris knew it by heart before he read it.
I will admit that I have no idea what you are trying to say.
Because I am friends with both of them, and enjoy reading what they have to say.
Interesting. Yes, you would likely not agree with most of the opinions in the article. I love reading about the experience of the writer who is tasting the wine. I read many notes on this Board and at the end have no idea of whether the writer actually liked the wine. Sure, the personification of wine writing it can be overdone, but I rarely am moved by a note that is a summary of the flavors tasted by the writer, especially where there is no mention of how much the writer enjoyed the wine. I found the article a pretty good critique of modern wine writing that is focused on tasting notes.
I understand this, and definitely don’t want to argue against your experience; there’s no point in that, nor do I have any interest in doing that. You just described most of my notes to a T. I’ve tried to get better about adding a sentence or two at the end that is meant to summarize my thoughts and feelings, but I ultimately do that maybe 20% of the time. I am fully aware my TNs aren’t for everybody, and I am comfortable with that; they are useful to me, and without that then they’re pointless. To the extent they’re helpful to others, that’s great and I enjoy that — but that’s not why I write them in the first place. Eeeeevvvvery once in a while a wine will move me to the point of doing the prosaic/feelings/personification thing, and I’ll happily engage in that fashion in those rare moments, but I have no inclination to write like that as a matter of course — and that’s not meant to be a criticism of the style at all; rather, that’s just not how my brain is wired.
There are people who like plot-driven novels and there are people who prefer character-driven novels. One is not better than the other.
I think one can enjoy both plot and character in literature yet prefer them to be delivered with a modest amount of flourish and less indulgence in anthropormorphic tendencies.
I really enjoy, and was influenced by, Terry Theisse writing and think that for me, he was at his best bringing the culture and personalities of his producers and their sites to life. And when he was making rational arguments on residual sugar in German wines, and in yields for Riesling. Elevating the wines to a “being”, excepting the state of being consumed or being in bottle, begins to jump the shark for me.
I only skimmed but I generally like it.
One thing I always say is what is wrong with saying something tastes like Riesling! Whoever (except us) bites into a peach and says it tastes like 2015 Julian Haart Piesporter Goldtröpfchen…
My first time in Costa Rica I ordered a fresh passionfruit juice and on first sip looked at my wife and said “this tastes just like Muller-Catior Scheurebe Spatlese!” She took a sip and agreed.
It was an interesting read; my take-away is that both writers want their notes to be viewed/read as literature that happens to have wine as “the main character”, rather than as a guide that a reader can (should) use to decide whether to buy a particular wine. At the same time, both writers acknowledge that most readers (and their employers) of notes are seeking information to guide/validate purchases.
I like to read notes that describe why the write liked/dislike the wine, coupled with enough descriptors to help me determine to what extent their palate aligns with my own (if they consistently describe wines that we both like as having quality “X”, I can have some confidence that I will like a particular wine that the writer likes and identifies as having quality “X” - even if I have never identified “X” when I tried that wines 
)
I don’t think they’re wrong about emphasizing some amount of individual perspective–the bit about wanting a note from one person rather than a panel seemed especially right to me–but that WSET pseudo-objective approach is very, very useful when you’re looking to purchase a wine but haven’t tried it before and want an idea of whether it’s going to fit your preferences. They do acknowledge this near the end, but I think their dismissing it on the grounds that you might not find the note when you drink it is making the perfect the enemy of the good. Even if I don’t ultimately get that blueberry note they discuss, I’m more willing to make that gamble knowing that this wine is more like other wines I’ve liked before than the alternative.
Separately, these two definitely do not have a hard-nosed enough view of literature. Like this:
Wine can obtain the status of a “being” with which we may engage in a nexus of freedom to respond to its ethereal and spiritual possibilities.
Doesn’t mean anything, and I’ve read enough Heidegger to know that it doesn’t mean anything, because I know what a claim with terms like “being” and “freedom” that does mean something looks like. Literariness isn’t a license to pretend floridity has substance.
So, likewise, this:
I know this is going to sound high-flying, but I don’t know how else to say it: I regard the wine as an equal, not as an object to which I bestow all the miraculous precision of my astonishing palate. It’s an equal being. And the story I want to tell is, How does it wish me to engage with it?
Sontag got twice as much in half the words:
Transparence means experiencing the luminousness of the thing in itself, of things being what they are.
That is how you apply a literary perspective.