I’ve always thought that, if there were any more than, say, 10 vampires in the world, that they would form some sort of para-society, parasitic to, but somewhat independent of, human society. Vamp society, in my mind, would include an organization of power and some set of rules. Let’s look at some vamp societies in recent TV shows:

In BTVS and Angel, vamps do not have much para-societal organization. They may form small nests [couples?] or associations of individuals at places of power, but they are, for the most part, disorganized, until a particular individual, such as the Master, rallies them around a common goal. Angel’s solitary hanging out seems characteristic.

In Supernatural, vamps do not seem to have a para-societal hierarchy, but they do have nest-level organization. In its depictions of nests, Supernatural shows small groups of vampires with clear leaders, to whom the subordinates defer in decision-making. [Ref. Lenore, leader of the non-human-harming vamp nest, arguing down her nest mates into fleeing the Winchesters’ investigation.]

In Moonlight, vamps have a partial para-societal organization. However, most of them appear to blend in with human society: i.e., Mick as private dick, Josef as investment banker, etc. They may associate with each other, but seem to operate mostly alone, although there is a class of vampires known as "cleaners" who apparently clean up the messes of stupid new vampires and otherwise maintain the secrecy of vampires.

In True Blood, vamps have a full para-societal organization. While trying to integrate into human population, they also obviously have their own hangouts [ref. Fangtasia] and nest-based social units. Interestingly enough, they also have law enforcement in the form of sheriffs, who answer to magisters [?], who answer to a mysterious woman even higher than they.

I was just thinking about vamp government because I find True Blood’s example incredibly interesting and also irredeemably silly, mostly in its execution. First, the vampire sheriff, Eric Northman, apparently spends all his time hanging out at that stupid vampire bar, Fangtasia, pouting. Though True Blood’s backdrop includes an anti-vamp backlash by right-wing nutjobs, Eric seems less interested in dealing with local and national vamp politics and more interested in kicking unworthy humans across the room. Without any other vamp sheriffs to compare him to, Eric is supposed to be taken as representative of his type, I guess. But shouldn’t he be actually doing things, like talking up his stance on vamp rights or beating other vamps into submission, instead of looking like he’s going to die of boredom?

Well, okay, I grant that, when Bill kills a vampire who was trying to kill Sookie, Eric quickly hauls Bill in for punishment, so I suppose he actually does do something after all. But here I come to my second objection about True Blood’s vamp hierarchy: the magister. This dude adjudicates crimes in the vamp world autocratically. His decisions apparently rest on centuries of tradition. He does his work in front of an audience to demonstrate his power for the masses and also because he has a boner for suffering and punishment. So Eric drags Bill up to the magister, who, incidentally, has jurisdiction over all North America, for punishment.

I don’t have any problem with a despotic, supercilious, reptilian vamp judge dispensing capricious justice before a sideshow-hungry audience. In fact, it’s a promising, delicious concept, but it tastes horrible when you actually bite into it. For one thing, Bill’s "trial" happens way too quickly after his murder. Am I supposed to really believe that the most powerful vampire in North America can judge one measly vamp-on-vamp murder days after it happens when the whole continent is swarming with vamp-related politics of a far more pressing nature [e.g., humans massacring vamps]? Doesn’t this magister have humans to subdue?

Additionally, Bill’s "trial" takes place in the least convincing location: apparently an abandoned fairground, with the magister seated in the truckbed of an antique pickup truck. The scene plays out like a late-night rally at a dump, not a criminal tribunal. Fine, fine, the tribunal certainly allows for a rally-like atmosphere, given the magister’s predilection for flamboyance and goading the audience. But why the hell is this tribunal out in the open, and what the heck is the magister doing in the back of a pickup? The blatantness of this event contradicts the season-long insistence on vamp secrecy, and the pickup truck is just plain pointless. I could understand the pickup if the magister had a mobile courtroom or even a sentimental attachment to that particular vehicle, but he didn’t, so the pickup made him seem silly, rather than menacing.

Details like these make me unable to think of the show as more than lightweight. I like it, but its silliness gobsmacks me sometimes.