Friday, June 15, 2012

On the Fundamental Problem with Vampires

       You might say I have a problem with vampire stories.
       Not that I don’t enjoy some of them, I do.. as long as there’s no glitter involved.
       The biggest problem I have with vampire stories (apart from the rather obvious initial leap of faith required) is that there’s a simple issue of logic.  And I’m not talking about the biological stuff, bending the rules of physics, and all that mess - that was covered under “initial obvious leap of faith.”
       I suppose you could say it’s more of a supply and demand thing.
       In Victorian era or Middle Age settings, it’s a lot easier.  In modern times, however, I just can’t see it happening and still “being kept quiet.”
       Here’s what I mean.  Assuming the vampire needs to feed only once per week - which is rather conservative, since most vampire mythos suggest that it is closer to every 2-3 days - that’s still fifty-two people being preyed upon every year.  Keep that point in mind.
       In addition, the vampire would also need to have shelter of some form during the daytime.  While I suppose “dirt” would suffice in a pinch, this I can only imagine is a last resort for a variety of reasons.  Security being one of them.  There’s nothing preventing any number of creatures, animals, or bugs from disturbing your slumber, not to mention nosy humans poking about what looks to be a freshly dug grave (which, understandably, arouses human suspicion).  Or a curious dog from digging up the same plot and exposing the vampire to random sunlight.  Plus, I’m not sure about you, but the idea of sleeping in dirt, which may or may not get soaked due to rainfall during the day, would put an irritating dampener on my appearance and style - both of which are rather important for a vampire, considering to lay low, looking like a diseased hobo is not the best of first appearances.
       And while a vampire might not care, I don’t think I’d be too fond of maggots and bugs crawling all over me and disturbing my sleep for centuries.  But that’s just me - I digress.
       Obviously, a form of shelter would be ideal.  However, in today’s modern world, shelter costs money.  Any form of shelter which does not cost money would be placed outside of major city areas (read: low population).  And before you get into the “money passed down from the ages” theory, that’s my next point.
       Any vampire was once human at some point.  The vast majority of us do not have money which could be stretched across centuries or even decades, even without the cost of eating and medical bills and such.  Furthermore, let’s be honest - how many executive positions do you really see being held by someone who never sets foot in daylight?  Not to mention that, before roughly 1930 or so, anybody who was never seen in daylight was automatically suspect of being up to no good.  This, surely, sounds like a character we wish to promote to our highest rankings.
       No, no, “ancestral money” doesn’t fly, either.  Which means a job in order to pay for said shelter, which means - exposure.  Nope, that boat is sinking pretty quickly, too.  Which leaves us with the following conclusion:
       The vampire would need to have some form of shelter in an unpaid area outside of major areas of civilization, but close enough to make a trip out to hunt feasible.
       There, that’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination.  “Adopt” an abandoned building or customize a run-down shack in off of some forlorn area, and nobody will pay it any mind.  Especially if it looks identical outside every day - which, since the vampire would be holed up in some secured area during daylight, it would appear to be from the outside.  And shouldn’t be too hard to install some form of locking mechanism on the inside to prevent nosy kids from poking about...
       ...oh, wait, that’ll require money.  Well, for the sake of this argument, since it’s a fixed cost, we’ll let that point slide assuming the vampire can hustle the money off his or her prey.  (See, I’m even letting that bone of contention slide.  Nice, aren’t I?)
       Moving along.  Remember that first point?  Fifty-two victims per year.  (At least.)  Now the closest center of population for The Vampire Shack would be a small one, where people going missing or suddenly springing up with bite marks on their neck would be noticed very quickly.  No, a vampire would need a more populous hunting ground, such as a major city.  This would, theoretically, provide enough random homeless, vagrants, and those living alone who might not be noticed as quickly to allow the vampire to hunt and extract a decent tenure out of his or her hard-won home.  But you know I didn’t leave it alone there, right?
       According to the Virginia Department of Housing and Community Development, there was an approximate 9,025 homeless individuals statewide in January 2011.  (I’m working with old data, so we’ll just pretend the vampire in question is a year behind as well.  Things don’t change that much in a year, anyway.)  Of course, that’s statewide;  so going by the posted census data, the City of Virginia Beach had a population of 437,994 people out of the statewide population of 8,001,024, or 5.4742% of the total statewide population.  (I told y’all I did analysis for a living.)  Of course, homeless populations are not evenly spread out across an area, but for the sake of this illustration, we’ll have to make do:  5.4742% of 9,025 equates to approximately 494 homeless people in Virginia Beach.  Yes, for you math nerds, I rounded .04 humans down to zero.  
       Getting back to the point at hand - staying undetected means preying upon those who will attract the least attention when they suddenly disappear.  Anne Rice fans will immediately recognize this concept, and for good reason.  It’s pretty logical.  Even still.. 494 homeless people at the rate of 52 people per year (and remember, that’s conservative) means the population will be exhausted in exactly 9.5 years.
       And that’s not including the fact that 281 of those 9,025 original individuals had AIDS.  I’m sure that’s not good for vampires.
       Obviously, that population of homeless people will replenish itself over time.  However, even with a reasonable replenishment rate, judging by the detailed level of statistics included in these reports from which I’ve garnered them, you’d think it might catch someone’s eye that the homeless population of Virginia Beach has decreased by 87.3% over the last 8.3 years, even when the budgeted spending has fallen to next to nothing.
       Of course, all this having been said.. this is only accounting for one (1) vampire in a single metropolitan area.  Considering the number of metropolitan areas in the United States is relatively limited, and the number of vampires in these stories is most certainly not limited to one (typically an entire underground subculture of rich industrialists who have somehow kept firm grip over their companies, escaped the Depression and economic downturn, all while preying on the humans they.. pay? while never setting foot in the daylight), and the fact that they most certainly do not feed only once a week, and you might start seeing where I’m coming from.
       After all, three vampires in Virginia Beach (even remaining under the once-a-week assumption) would deplete the entire homeless population in three years and two months.
       Tick tock, tick tock...
       So you’ll have to forgive me if I laugh hysterically anytime I hear someone say “but they could be real and we’d never know it!”


Sources:
Virginia Department of Housing & Community Development
http://www.dhcd.virginia.gov/HomelessnesstoHomeownership/PDFs/Virginia_Homeless_Report.pdf
2010 Census Data
http://quickfacts.census.gov/qfd/states/51/5182000.html

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