For it cannot be But I am pigeon-livered and lack gall To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should ha’ fatted all the region kites With this slave’s offal.

Oh yeah. Getting juicy and fierce with the language now, Hamlet! Gotta love a good violent fantasy and it’s particularly awesome because he’s skipped the violent part and gone right to the intense leaving the bad guy’s guts around for carnivorous birds.
I mean we go from one bird – the pigeon (equivalent of being a Renaissance chicken?) to the guts of another – the vulture, if I’m not mistaken. And in between, the implication of some sort of violence that left the villain disemboweled.

It’s remarkable how satisfying this sort of thinking can be – imagining the grisly remains of someone you hate really can give you a charge. And if you imagine it as a benefit to other creatures (even if they are carnivorous birds) somehow you can eliminate the moral challenge of actually killing a person. It’s kind of pleasurably disgusting.

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