One of the underlying faults of this discussion is the idea that what the camera captures is a neutral "reality," when, in fact, it's not. If you shoot under florescent lights, the shots will be green, even though your eyes didn't see the environment as green, because your brain adjusted its white-point. So when you post-process your images to a better white point, what you're doing is struggling to adjust a machine capture to a brain capture. There's nothing fake about that.
I agree with Jack about at least one thing: the person who does the capture is the creative one, the artist, the journalist, whatever, when the intention is "straight" photography. The function of the post-processor is essentially technical, in the sense that he is making adjustments to fit a particular straight vision. You can see this in an interesting way in the relationship between James Nachtwey and his darkroom man in the film "War Photographer."
But then there's the other side, in which the capture may be essentially irrelevant, compared to what was done later. Andy Warhol looked for certain kinds of photographs of Marilyn, Mao, Jackie Kennedy, etc., and then, through selection, post processing, and conversion to a different form of printing (silk screen) he turned them into art. The same is true in this recent controversy about the Obama poster image -- the original photographic image showed little imagination, little technique, little of anything creative -- the creative work was what happened when the artist re-processed the image.
There's a mistake in arguing that these two things are the same, or even similar, or that one necessarily follows the other. They may be quite distinct. Or, they may not be. Jack's problem is that he apparently believes that the camera is a neutral arbiter, and if he adjusts it correctly, it'll do all the work. Well, no. He's got the raw material, but then he needs to make the print, because there are a million ways to make the print, and if he's not involved in that, then the final work will be as much a product of the printer's imagination as it is of his.