The unexpected death this January of Marcus Allen, the well-known ‘alternative’ researcher, renowned lunar conspiracist and UK publisher of Nexus Magazine just a month before his 84th birthday left many close associates in shock at the sudden absence of this larger-than-life and extraordinary figure. Andy Thomas pays tribute to his lost friend …
Andy writes:
Rarely a passive character, one who had been either a deep inspiration (as with me) or a thorn in the side, depending on one’s perspective, Marcus might be quietly content that his recent passing at home by natural causes took everyone by surprise, as he delighted in throwing curveballs into conversations and making people look again at their suppositions about humankind’s achievements, whether ancient (the mysteries of unexplained monuments) or modern (NASA – “Never A Straight Answer”). Not everyone took to this provocative approach, or they balked at his beliefs, while others could be alarmed at the flaming that might unexpectedly surge from him in the middle of a lecture Q&A even when he wasn’t the speaker; when the tall, imposing figure of Marcus rose to say something, you knew you were in for an entertaining time.
But for those of us fascinated at his ability to always question entrenched convictions and were able to go with his charismatic force, Marcus was a key and welcome figure in the ‘truthseeker’ world for many years, who could in reality sometimes be disarmed by counterchallenges, humour and gentle jibes. He would always respect those who stood up to him and he gained some respect in return; even a number of venerable astronomers begrudgingly came to admire his determined stance and the twinkle that could come into Marcus’s Aquarian eyes as he took on a dare. Then you would see his human side.
Those of us who first knew Marcus from the vibrant networks of early crop circle research did wonder whether he was human at first; we used to affectionately call him ‘Marcus Alien’, though we only told him this years later. Luckily, he laughed. When he arrived at the initial meetings of the Sussex branch of the Centre for Crop Circle Studies (now Changing Times) in 1992, Marcus had a mysterious, slightly other-worldly air about him, wearing an impressive ring in the shape of the famous ‘face on Mars’ and always hinting at knowledge of deep institutional conspiracies and cover-ups – as well as trying to sell us Toyotas, as a loyal employee of the renowned car company for some years.
This enigmatic quality decided us that if anyone was likely to be some kind of intelligence services ‘plant’ in our group, it was Marcus. We had nothing to hide and the whole idea that we might be important enough (young egos, eh?) to be under surveillance was fun and so we welcomed him anyway – but he would in truth soon become a trusted friend, of the group and of me personally. His sideways views of world events would be a fixture in the little email group a few of us developed to keep us sane in a strange era. Marcus continued to attend the Sussex gatherings until his end 33 years later, and of course became renowned for his own compelling lectures and interviews, making several appearances at the annual Glastonbury Symposium and many other events.
The crop circle world itself revelled in Marcus’s famed investigation of circle ‘hoaxers’ and their possible motivations, some taking as read his suggestion that they might be deliberate distractions hired by dark authorities, although in truth he only ever offered this as a possibility. First published in our old Sussex Circular journal (among several other excellent reports and articles from Marcus), issue 33, Sep 1994 (scroll this link), and reproduced widely after, his blockbuster article attracted all kinds of people to him, including the hoaxers themselves, leading him a merry dance to test his discernment. Marcus always had the measure of them; he had form dealing with sticky customers, especially after earlier run-ins with Scientologists and the like. As a former London cab driver, adventurer in India and a keen amateur photographer (Marcus, pictured in action here, took the official photographs of my wedding to Helen in 2012), he could read the inner characters of people better than they sometimes knew themselves. Marcus even managed to successfully bewilder UK TV attack-dog Jeremy Clarkson on the BBC in 1999.
Despite the influence of his article, Marcus remained under-represented in print, though his eventual 2024 co-written book with Trevor Weaver, Moon Shot: Footprints of Deceit, would help rectify that, despite some of its details raising hackles even among fellow lunar doubters, not that this seemed to faze him, outwardly at least. Overall, Marcus’s noble primary function was really as a key facilitator of other researchers’ ideas, most famously becoming the UK publisher of the leading alternative journal Nexus Magazine after Toyota moved on from needing his services (although he never stopped recommending the company’s wares). Marcus’s unending mission to sell the Australian-originating Nexus in as many shops across Britain as he could, and his ever-present sales table at any event that would have him, was a major factor in its success here. People learnt that if they wandered over to the Nexus stall, they would soon be having a more-than-interesting conversation with someone who had gained an impressively broad knowledge of subjects far beyond the mainstream.
This knowledge would be a major factor in growing my own unanticipated career as a researcher of mysteries and cover-ups. Looking for a travelling companion, in the mid-1990s Marcus invited me to join him on his regular drives up to the Capital to attend the now late and much-lamented ‘London Forum’ lectures on a variety of paranormal subjects. The years of long conversations we had stuck in city traffic queues and traversing dark midnight roads enabled Marcus to introduce me to many astonishing areas of thought I might never otherwise have come across. In my book Conspiracies, I rightly acknowledged the importance of Marcus and these highly formative and always congenial exchanges. They literally changed my life.
Marcus’s outlook would become more dogmatic as time went by and we didn’t always agree on politics, but I never lost my respect for his personal convictions and he never lost his fire, even when later years slowed him down a little. His questioning of aspects of the Moon landings gradually appeared to become flat denial that they had ever taken place at all, but then one was never quite sure when Marcus was just playing Devil’s advocate to get a reaction, and it didn’t seem to matter anyway as long as fascinating debates resulted. And they always did, even if they sometimes made him enemies. Marcus appeared to thrive on provoking opposition, whether in his lectures or in conversation.
To my knowledge, Marcus’s last significant stage appearance was on the panel at the 2025 Glastonbury Symposium [pictured], where he cut a characteristically strident and unrelenting figure – and was still promoting Nexus to the masses, the main task of producing the UK edition admirably taken on by his son Alex and daughter Holly for some years now. I saw him a month before his passing and he seemed relaxed and, well, as Marcus as ever. Today he is gone, and the sadness is profound. Marcus will now, no doubt, be having a chat with deceased astronauts to get to the truth of all that and probably trying to sell Toyotas and a copy of Nexus to St Peter too, but many here will mourn him hugely.
For those who knew and valued him, not least his family and widow Robyn, to whom all love and condolences are offered, a world without Marcus feels inherently wrong and his role will not be easily filled; probably never. I was proud to call him a friend and colleague, and we had a unique chemistry between us that I will always miss. A flavour of this can be found in an old Edge TV programme I once presented, where I interviewed Marcus about his background and contrary lunar views, which can still be watched on YouTube. Much younger versions of ourselves also appear in the now legendary Jon Ronson-presented Channel 4 show For The Love of Lunar Conspiracy, broadcast in 1997.
Marcus had a c’est-la-vie-type phrase he was fond of using when things were going oddly or no other words could be found: “If you can’t take a joke, you shouldn’t have joined”. Marcus could take a joke, and he did join, and the world should be forever grateful that he did. Whatever our personal views, sometimes it needs a few people to hold up a mirror to its entrenched cultural assumptions and rattle the cage a little. Marcus played that role perfectly and the cage is probably just a little looser as a result.
Marcus Allen lived a life, therefore, worth its weight in gold, to the Moon and back, perhaps.
Andy Thomas
Photographs by Palden Jenkins (main picture), Andy Thomas, Dick Alder, Jason Porthouse and Simon Webb.
