CaII comes in from some hollywood asshole asking me whether I want to write the movie version of the book. l'm like, blow me, lose my number. Calls me back a week later. What about a documentary? I'm like, Louis won't even talk to me. He says, not Louis, Lestat, the white guy. l'm like, blow me. I hang up. Calls me back a week later. I want to direct it, figuring that'll end it. I have one meeting with him. l'm meeting with Lestat's lawyer, and it's Vampire Rumspringa for Danny Boy Molloy.
Rashid, Daniel Molloy, Raglan James, Louis de Pointe du Lac. We all worked together in Dubai. Burj Al Arab, now HavenMed Senior Care Headquarters.
This is your sundered head. And this is your petulant body. And this is the glorious air between on which the two of you still manage to communicate a good 2 hours and 12 minutes since uncoupling. If you weren’t Lestat’s progeny, this would not be happening. You would be dead,
which is why this is being live-cast to a very important room gathered in Budapest.
We want him to play the concert. We’ve been planning it for a year. Nudging it, urging it on, on the periphery, as we do. “Make more”? We came up with that. Too many of us for what’s left in the ground. Cradle your cell phone. Sell your Range Rover while you can. There was a breakout room at the last G7 conference. They called it. May the Vamps Safely Graze. Can’t see your kind governing, but then you and I have our own reasonings. Evidence of the soul’s existence.
Raglan tells us that powerful people are actively pushing for the concert to happen. According to him, resources are running out, oil, minerals, everything left in the ground, and there are simply too many people. The elite are quietly preparing for the consequences, hoping to preserve what they see as their rightful place in the world. Those in power are not trying to prevent collapse but to manage it in their own favour. Raglan himself is searching for the evidence of the soul.
This echoes Lestat's opening monologue. He describes a world hollowed out by automation, consumerism, celebrity culture, climate crisis, and human life is disposable. And he is in conversation within his soul in the finale, literally a walking proof of souls existence.
The dark, dreary industrial world has finally submitted to automation. Laborers stand in their doorways hitting their pipes as their children half-pipe in their drained, empty swimming pools. Drug stores locked up baby formula and shaving cream while Saks ate Barneys and someone told everyone that Lululemon was sexy. Facts are irrelevant. Feels are everything. And the value of human life, it has never been more arbitrary. David, Freddie, Prince Rogers, they’re all gone, and the lights on Tay Tay’s eras have dimmed. Fire coming down the hill, water moving in on Nantucket. No more safe spaces. It’s my era now.
Humanity in decay, late stage capitalism, consumarism is absurd. Vampirism becomes a metaphor for parasitism (or distraction) in the age of late capitalism (imperialism).