Infinite Fuel

Words and photographs by Rashad Houston.

There’s infinite fuel for weapons of warfare.

That is how the priorities read from down here. Inflation eats into the week. Gas takes more of the paycheck. Rent goes up and the same rooms cost more to keep. People are told to adjust, cut back, be realistic. Then war needs another extension, another shipment, another stretch of somebody’s life, and the conversation becomes what it takes to finish the mission.

A tall light pole beneath storm clouds. — Light beneath a heavy sky.

The pressure has a record. August’s U.S. inflation reporting showed rent rising again. ^[1] On October 7, the IMF’s managing director warned about high energy prices, public debt, and risks around the AI investment boom. Reuters reported rising oil prices on October 8 amid shipping attacks and supply concerns. ^{[2], [3]} Those are global stories. Their consequences reach a household one payment at a time.

I look at this light pole and think about the work below the fixture. Somebody put it there. Somebody has to keep it working. I look at the concrete where the water reaches it and think about what we ask a structure to withstand. The wave comes back. The load stays. Sooner or later, endurance requires maintenance.

A concrete pier support meeting the sea. — Concrete at the waterline.

People require it too. Reuters’ October 7 account of the USS Abraham Lincoln’s extended deployment described scrutiny over crew wellbeing. It also recalled Trump’s August response when asked whether the ship had been deployed too long: “Not nearly long enough.” ^[4] I can’t get comfortable with that answer. There are human beings on that ship. There are people at home counting days.

Reuters’ October 3 reporting aboard the USS George Washington described a deployment with no end date and the strain of staying ready under threat. ^[5] A carrier is an extraordinary machine. It is also a place where people work, eat, try to sleep, and miss their families. Calling them resilient does not settle the question of how much we should keep demanding.

An aircraft passing beside a tall lighting tower against a blue sky. — Light and flight share the frame.

That is the unease in these images for me. The lights stand. The aircraft moves. Everything appears to be functioning. But a functioning system can still be wearing its people down. The administration’s constant war talk makes that feeling heavier. I want leadership to talk with the same urgency about keeping a home, affording a tank of gas, and bringing people back.

I still have hope. Some days it takes willpower just to leave room for it. I make something. I reach for the people I love. I rest so I can return. I want my sons to inherit more than a talent for surviving pressure. The future I am working toward has homes people can keep, service that lets people come home, and enough energy left for living. I am stubborn about that. I intend to stay stubborn.