Do humans find beauty in humanity, anymore?

I am a student and an artist, so I am expected to have many traditionally idealistic views on matters of the aesthetic, so the poetic moment that all of my friends and acquaintances expect of me every now and then emerges, but do they see the sincerity behind the words?

Photojournalists line the internet, helping to fuel the capitalist machine with images that sell, with men and women removed from their natural divinity (I find very little more appallingly disgusting than separating that which I naturally find attractive as a human from that which I love unconditionally as a human, and women, god damn it, are more than fuck orifices) and, with the help of modern technology, turned into monstrosities. I must admit, some breathtaking artwork can be accomplished when celebrating and uniting (for example) a woman’s visual beauty and elements of what we consider ornate or elegant to make a statement or to entertain, and is well in such for the aesthetic, but to use it as a tool to convey what constitutes “beauty” is human negligence to the self and the race as a whole.
These people who try to portray the beauty in some subjects have women wearing suggestive clothing, which is neither fully offensive nor complimentary to the individual, hiding their faces in thick creams and goos and dusts that are meant to reshape the structure of the subject’s face to photographer’s liking. I haven’t gone very far in my journeys with photography, I’m not a fan of art for the sake of sale alone, I have never modeled to portray an idea outside of my own, and I’m not much of a performer of any scripted material than that within my own mind, but I can’t help but think that there is something perverse in the nature of those who use photography and alter humanity’s appearance solely for his or her [the photographer's] own expression, if it is truly his or her own expression being relayed by such imagery.
I don’t think I’m being clear. I focus on women, of course, because I am a male who is attracted to females, and I tend to set my attention to what grabs it most often. A woman is beautiful, and can use makeup and set amongst an atmosphere that captures such beauty without the integrity of it being damaged. A woman is not beautiful with a black stripe dragged across her face, hiding the perfectly sculpted brow, nose, and eyeline. Her hair grows and falls naturally from her head, but why should it be plumed like a shrub to decorate an already desecrated face? This is not my branch of art, and being fair, I’m probably being far too critical, but when am I expected to draw the line for myself as to what must be acceptable?
The nose is a wonderful physical trait. Why do cats with Photoshop blur it the fuck out of existence? Truthfully, all of this frustration comes from having gone through a few pictures of my favorite actresses’ photographs for practice-sketching material, and having come across Jennifer Connolly represented in such hideous ways, as of late. They are to compliment the photographer’s attempt to be chic, when the awe-striking figure from my childhood is graffiti-ed by eurotrash art movements that dehumanize our sense of art and respect.