There aren’t many things that would make you feel sorry for Steve Bannon, but being introduced this week in Alabama by Nigel Farage as “the greatest political thinker in the western hemisphere” is one of them. If Farage, winner of no parliamentary election, player of no role in Brexit negotiations and head of no political parties thought I was a political genius, I’d keep that quiet. Steve, you were Darth Vader, the genius architect of the Trump victory and fawned over by the media, the brains behind the Muslim ban, the alt-right’s alt-knight. Now you are being introduced by a man who not only has never managed to win a seat in parliament, but also has failed to so many times he has become a sort of superlative metaphor for loss – victory’s anti-matter. There was something awfully David Brenty about it all – two has-beens still trying to stretch their relevance to the absolute limit by making cameo appearances at fringe events ranting at the establishment that has revoked their access.

Bannon, I get. To him, Trump has been defanged by the new Supernanny, babysitter in chief Gen John Kelly, so he’s getting his kicks by supporting as many agents of chaos as he can. But Farage? What the hell was he doing addressing an Alabama state rally to back some random senate campaign? Who do the Americans think they are getting with Farage? Do they see him as some Churchillian English gent who lives in Downton Abbey and has managed to single-handedly secure Brexit against the efforts of the entire political establishment by sheer force of personality and capital?

I can see why Farage is in the US. It makes perfect sense for a man raging against the dying of the light at home. For people like Farage, who occupy that precarious territory where they are ubiquitous but don’t actually do much apart from writing the odd semi-literate column in a tabloid or website, or a brief weekly radio phone-in show, the launch of a US career is the klaxon that things might not be going too well. And if you see them on Fox News then the suspicion is confirmed. Fox News is Britain’s dumping ground for those who would rather be relevant in a garbage can than irrelevant outside one. That’s all I hear when people like Farage talk about how many supporters or followers they have on social media. I am relevant! Who cares how I got there or what I have to keep doing, if I don’t get attention then what am I? Merely a husk who has abandoned all sense of self and moral responsibility in exchange for some limelight. I cannot go back now, the breadcrumb trail to redemption has been lost and so I must press on.

Nothing is too putrid for Farage, from backing a virulently rightwing homophobe running for senate to addressing far right rallies in Germany.

There was something tragically poetic about the fact that not a moment after Farage celebrated his one millionth follower on Twitter this week, it was revealed that over half were bots. Just Nigel and his fake friends chasing the caboose end of the train trying to catch a ride.

I don’t know who you think you are paying for, America. We’re not talking great intellect here, or success. He describes himself as “separated and skint”. He lives in Single Street (I know, leave it) :around the corner from his mother”. His Wikipedia page includes the entries “Ukip leadership and resignations” (plural), “expense disclosure”, “undeclared gifts”, “car tampering” (where his wheel came loose and he said it was foul play, a claim unsupported by the police or his mechanic), and “tax avoidance”. Plus a long list of “not elected”s for parliament from 1994-2015.

The preparation for this illustrious career is privileged – Farage is no establishment outsider. He is the son of a stockbroker and attended the eye-wateringly expensive private school Dulwich College which, as of 2016, costs almost £40,000 for full board and hovers around the 45th ranking of the best schools in the UK list. After graduating from this overpriced creche he then went on to a modestly successful career as a City trader before entering politics. Sorry to break it to you America, you’re not getting some wily hacker of the establishment from the fringes. You’re not getting our Bruce Wayne. You’re not even getting Alfred.

But let’s not get too hasty. Perhaps his schtick will be so successful he will be absorbed full time into the American freak show and stop spreading toxic waste here in the UK. Every time I sigh when I see a British diamond in the rough who couldn’t get enough traction in the UK and had to move to the US to be appreciated (Riz Ahmed, John Boyega, Daniel Kaluuya, Idris Elba), I remember that the US has also taken others: James Corden, Louise Mensch and now Nigel Farage. Not to mention Piers Morgan, who, alas, even the Americans couldn’t stand. Whenever I think of Morgan’s return, I remember the scene at the beginning of the Sound of Music when Captain von Trapp asks Maria to change before meeting the children because her dress is too shabby. She says she gave all her other dresses to the poor when she joined the abbey. “What about this one?” he says, gesturing towards the dress she was wearing. She replies “the poor didn’t want this one.”

So, perhaps we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If he prefers America to the UK, then I, for the first time, am happy that he’s finally getting what he wants.