G.I. Joe: The Movie

This movie astounds me. It is incredible. In a sense, it is unbelievable. Some of the visuals, when viewed through the perspective of adulthood, are, to be entirely honest, quite horrifying. (And, to continue this thread of honesty, when viewed drunkenly, they are equally horrifying; perhaps even moreso.)
We watched this movie tonight. A celebration of sorts, I suppose; Taylor arrived in Toronto today, and drinks and G.I. Joe were, apparently, the only means available to us to properly recognise such a momentous occasion.
Watching the movie, I was inundated with MEMORY. Every character who flashed on the screen was met with a yell from me: "That's AVALANCHE!," "That's a CRIMSON GUARD!," "That's NEMESIS ENFORCER!" (et cetera).
The brain is a wonderful thing, huh? I mean, I hadn't thought of those characters in years. They had long since passed out of mind. (I even remember the last G.I. Joe I bought and, while buying him [Freefall], acknowledging that he would be the last G.I. Joe that I would ever buy for myself. This was, even while I was standing at the cash at Toys 'n' Wheels, quite an experience. I mean, knowing that you were in the death throes of your youth; knowing that you were experiencing your final hurrah as a child. It was quite an ordeal, really. I played with that guy as though the hounds of Hell were snarling at my heels; or something, to be sure, quite worse: the end of my childhood. Knowing its end was coming inspired such endeavours to maintain, to solidify, to make permanent, its presence. Though that's a story for another day, I'd say: this one's about G.I. Joe: The Movie.)
Suffice to say: that movie was an integral part of my childhood, and it has, quite apparently, remained entrenched in my memory --- to be excavated when Hasbro deems appropriate. Which is to say: when drinking a bottle of red wine and watching a children's movie (prefaced with instructions on how to correct VHS tracking issues).