One of the biggest marks of refinement seems to be how we eat our food, to the point that good table manners are often seen as synonymous with good manners in general. So why do vampires seem to eat about as efficiently as babies? Aren’t they concerned with waste? Or laundry bills? For them, it’s like every meal is a pie-eating contest or something. But perhaps that’s the point: they may present themselves as articulate, polite beings of a by-gone era, but at their core they are beasts doing little more than indulging their base hungers.
I suppose the modern fascination with vampires, though, is just an allegorical obsession with rich people. If we replace all that blood with cocaine, then it’s pretty much the capitalist fantasy, right? You could satisfy every material want, surround yourself with glamour, purchase enough surgery to look however you desired, and yet, you’d hunger. For cocaine. Or some other vice. I suppose there are plenty of exceptions, but we never hear about them, since no one makes movies about billionaire financiers who become obsessed with ornithology. Unless that’s the backstory for one of the folks from The Big Year, which I still haven’t seen (or read, since it was a book first), but still, bird-watching movies are few and far between.
I could probably talk all day about the sociological implications of pop culture’s ongoing obsession with the undead, but for now, I’ll just be content to wonder why vampires never mind having blood all over their chins.