Andrew Cuomo is done with political exile. In recent days, the former New York governor has taken to the airwaves and public hustings, declaring himself the victim of both a political vendetta and cancel culture. "If you want to cancel something, cancel federal gridlock, cancel the incompetence, cancel the infighting, cancel crime, cancel homelessness, cancel education inequality, cancel poverty, cancel racism," he said at a Brooklyn church.

All good points! Cuomo, however, did almost none of this during his decade in office, which goes a long way toward explaining why this attempt at a political sequel is all but certain to fail. If Cuomo wants to understand what went wrong, he should reread his speech — and then look in a mirror.

Cuomo's description of cancel-culture politics could double as a description of his time in the governor's mansion. Cuomo ensured years of gridlock in Albany by helping to broker backroom deals that effectively gave control of the New York state Senate to Republicans — even though voters had given Democrats a solid majority. By some accounts, educational inequality expanded during his time in office. The New York City subway system so deteriorated (in part, because Cuomo funneled Metropolitan Transportation Authority money to, among other things, a ski slope near voter-rich Buffalo) that the hashtag #CuomosMTA became a thing. As for infighting, Cuomo indulged in myriad political feuds with members of his own party — most famously with now-former New York City mayor Bill de Blasio, whom Cuomo attempted to sabotage and sandbag time and time again.

And all that was before COVID-19. The coronavirus pandemic initially turned Cuomo into a superstar: His news conferences, with their mix of facts, warnings, comfort and family schmaltz, proved so popular that cable news networks aired them live. But even as Cuomo appeared to display Covid competence, he ordered nursing homes to accept Covid-positive patients — and then his administration withheld data when questioned about deaths in long-term care facilities. His TV act garnered him a $5.1 million book deal — money a state ethics board ordered him to return when it emerged that state employees had assisted him with writing.

Eventually, things caught up with him. News broke that his administration attempted to cover up the nursing home death toll. Young women came forward, claiming they had been treated inappropriately. Cuomo treated almost no one with respect, with the predictable result that, when he needed support, there was almost none to be found. As I've noted before, Cuomo's final months in office played out like a political version of "Murder on the Orient Express," with legislators and Albany lifers alike coming out of the woodwork to stick the knife in.

Cuomo resigned last August to stave off a possible impeachment after a state investigation found that he sexually harassed 11 women and oversaw an unlawful attempt to exact retribution against one accuser. Now, his latest defense rests on the fact that no legal authority investigating the allegations of sexual harassment has indicted him. Left unsaid: There's a large space between the absence of criminal charges and actual exoneration.

Meanwhile, voters are coming to realize they confused Cuomo's bullying ways with competent governance. His successor, Kathy Hochul, shares the moderate political instincts many New Yorkers liked about Cuomo, but she lacks his propensity to indulge in political food fights with erstwhile allies.

A recent Siena College Research Institute poll found that 4 out of 5 New Yorkers are happy that Cuomo left office. Yes, Cuomo would like another public act. Unfortunately for him — and fortunately for the rest of us — New Yorkers are done with him.

Helaine Olen is the author of "Pound Foolish: Exposing the Dark Side of the Personal Finance Industry." She serves on the advisory board of the Economic Hardship Reporting Project.