Doesn't dear Zilla's little project, instead of angering you, only serve to make you feel better about the global nature of this reality?
Body love is driving to work in the morning and not judging the different-sized women that run past us on the sidewalk. It's going shopping and not eyeing up the woman next to us trying on clothes that we decide are too tight on her.
I'm not going to say that social media was our demise (I myself enjoy Facebook too much to make such a brazen statement), but I do think that with the rise of these sites came the sudden commanding impulse to look awesome in photos. After all, we want our 500-plus friends to think we're beautiful.
There was a time when such indeterminacy and uncertainty was alluded to as seeing through a glass darkly. But that was a time when even the coinage of metaphors deferred to steeply-buttressed authorities who were engaged in a tyranny of thought that required determinacy and certainty to metaphysically secure and uphold its power over the collective mind.
In the same way we find disturbing - if not outright revolting - a robot or animation that is nearly humanlike but not quite there (the nightmare-inducing baby in Pixar's Tin Toy comes to mind - Google it, if you dare), our reaction to 'impossible' photography oscillates between unease and fascination.
In photography, timing is everything; the right location, the right light, the right subject; the artist then might rely on tools, like Photoshop, to transcend the imagination. How such tools reveal itself into a tangible embodiment that ordinarily takes dexterity and patience depends on how the creator decides who is serving whom.