Shut the door. Let go the pathology, the spell of constant fires burning. Time to pull up our sleeves and begin the hard work of putting fires out. Healing is forgetting. There will be enough time for history. I long ago learned that the spell was the glue that holds this broken man, this broken myth together. I shut the door on that a long time ago. It was always in my nature. I perfected the art of disenchantment long before the enchanters came on the scene. I could have waited them out another four years. I had strengthened my resolve for four more years. I am under no illusions they feel this is the end of enchantment. But we do not have to follow. Shut the door, there is a chill in the air and we need to rekindle a love of democracy, a retelling of republican virtue, that is, a faith that self-government is the highest expression of autonomy. We need not be not dragged down into their cauldron of spells. Power is ours once more. Use it wisely. Use it justly. But above all, use it.