It's unlikely that the glow-in-the-dark elements of this tie - advertised in several early 1940s Lev A.Gleason comics, among others - is necessarily radium, but the highly radioactive chemical was used abundantly for other luminescent products such as, famously, watch parts, and all sorts of ill-advised medical devices (Enjoy your radium face cream and your vigor-restoring radium-infused athletic strap, folks!). It's doubly unlikely that it would be radium, given wartime shortages of everything excepting, apparently, novelty.
|"The doctor says the weird thing about my cancer is how it's manifested|
itself as a series of v-shaped tumors along my chest and abdomen."
The glow-in-the-dark tie has the additional benefit of behaving like some sort of general up-riler for otherwise un-riled women, driving them to fits of frantic passion merely by being given glowing instructions in the dark. Imagine wearing this tie on a New York subway in the year of our Lord 2015 AD. You'd have to get NASA to identify who and what exactly followed your kiss-a-torial commands.
Whatever the case, it's the tie that causes delirium tremens in the form of tiny, excitable women clinging to your shirt front, clawing at your apparent good taste.
|Bodiless imps are all about the novelty tie.|
Failing that, if you'd like to guarantee that you're getting a good product with a minimum daily recommend amount of straight-up fuckin-kill-you radium involved, how about buying your little one something that'll fire actual honest-to-goodness radium directly into his eyes?
|"It glows with a weird light in a dark room."|
I'm embarrassed to say that I wish more products were advertised to me with the promise of watching worlds destroyed before my eyes. I'd buy and use on a daily basis a Jetta packed to the roof with used syringes if they promised me I could watch worlds destroyed before my eyes.