While I eat my vegetables, I haven't really seen much by way of the future in them. Other than, perhaps, I eat them in order to prolong my stay on the planet.

But Glenn Reynolds linked an interesting idea -- whether asparagus and other vegetables might be useful as fortune telling devices:

I never suspected that perhaps instead of just eating it, I should be using this tall, green, veggie to help me decide how to plot my future, or find out what life entails for me. Until now, that is, after reading an article in the Telegraph online about Jemima Packington, who may be the world's only "asparamancer."

Considering the theme (at least the original intent) of this blog, from time I have played augur and looked at various omens and portents. I've also occasionally stooped to astrology, and I might do it again. ("For entertainment purposes only," of course.)

But vegetables? Animal entrails, yes, but I don't know whether the Romans were into reading veggies. We've all heard of reading tea leaves, though, so I thought I'd give it a try.

As it happens, there's some freshly bought asparagus sitting in the fridge, so I'm in luck.

Here's what it looks like sitting in the bottom of the crisper drawer in its "natural" undisturbed state:

Be a pity to ruin it by throwing it on the floor. Plus, the dogs love asparagus -- which would put a quick stop to my experiment in asparamancy.

So I just thought I'd leave it trapped in its plastic sheath, but take it out and photgraph it. Here's a closeup of the asparagus heads.

They look repressed, almost angry, don't they? All crowded in there, sweating profusely, and the color is almost like meat.

I might be in big trouble. What would Freud say about someone whose looks at asparagus and sees sweaty meat?

The blogger who linked the asparamancy piece (A.J. Rathbun) also wonders about other veggies:

...could other vegetables also be useful as fortune-telling devices? Should I be reading my salads and sides before eating them? Have any Al Dente readers ever discovered something pertinent about their life in a floret of broccoli? A slightly wilted leaf of kale? Let us know, so we, also, may take advantage of the prognosticatory powers of vegetables.

(Even thinking about it sounds oppressive. Like "You're not getting up from this table until you finish reading your vegetables!")

Is this sort of thing new?

I'm thinking that Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention may have predicted the predictions of vegetables with their song "Call Any Vegetable":

And the chances are good
That a vegetable will respond to you-hoooo

RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAYYYYY . . .

It's interesting that I'd read about vegetable prognostication right after I'd been contemplating a picture I took which seems fraught with cosmic significance.

Surrealism is where you find it.

MORE: Commenter Porkov noted that "the Classical way to divine the I Ching is by casting yarrow stalks."

With that in mind, I decided to combine asparamancy with cooking, and in a somewhat cruel and callused manner, I cast the stalks into the boiling water to see how they fell.

Oh the asparanity!

(Well, they say that the hardest part of cooking a vegetable is... Oh never mind!)