That Thursday Dude has tweaked and re-posted an earlier entry that I thought was worth my reconsideration as well. It seems TTD is worrying over a particular topic that sits at the bottom of his brainpan the way sand sits in an oyster. He's puzzling over some astutely rendered dichotomies: creative vs. critical, taste vs. genius, and one or two more to boot. His post is a nuanced exploration of character, biology, primal impulses and the assumed role of the critic.
Reading it, my own (post-nasal-drip-clouded) brain swerves in several directions at once (no Hindu monkey, I). My inclination is to think of these classifications as representative of a particular internal tension, rather than warring factions or dichotomies. I love reading criticism, and have whiled away many a pleasant hour in its consumption and production. If it's good criticism it has an aesthetic all its own. But at the end of the day, it's just a quick improvisation off a larger composition that required greater energy and devotion of the artisan. Working with the definitions that TTD supplies, can criticism ever be a work of genius?
(A: Yes. Goddard's maxim is the one to remember.)
I think the more pertinent question is, what's a genius without an audience? The most competent creative types have a shrewd understanding of their audience's expectations; the best authors/singers/auteurs realize, in other words, that they are performers. A performer recognizes boundaries and limitations, imposed from within and without, then works at delivering a surprise.
So who is the greater genius: Franz Kafka or Max Brod? One more dose of this cold medicine, and I believe I may just have the answer for you.