"The NASA Moon Landing Was Filmed in Slough"

An Exploration into How Conspiracy Theories Go from NASA to Nando’s

Right, gather round. It’s Thursday night down at The Dog & Duck, and Darren’s three pints into a lively chat about space. You know Darren — the bloke who once claimed he could taste WiFi. He leans in, drops his voice to “important man in a film trailer” level and says:

“Mate, the moon landing? Didn’t happen. Filmed in Slough, wasn’t it. Industrial estate. Stanley Kubrick directed it, I swear on me nan.”

Now, I’ve heard some bollocks in my time, once overheard a lad say you can’t get pregnant if you’re upside down, but this one? This one takes the Hobnob.

So let’s unpack this cosmic codswallop, shall we?

The Moon Landing: Not Sponsored by B&Q Slough

The idea that the 1969 moon landing was faked has been floating around longer than a packet of Scampi Fries behind the fruit machine. The theory goes that the Yanks couldn’t beat the Soviets to space, so they staged the whole thing. In Slough, apparently. Because nothing says "otherworldly lunar landscape" like the back of a B&M car park.

Let’s consider the evidence:

1. Footprints on the Moon Darren says, “But how are there footprints if there’s no moisture?” Darren also once thought a lunar eclipse was a sign that Greggs was closing. The dust on the moon is fine and powdery, but there's no wind or water to mess up the prints, so they just stay there. Like that time Dave from darts fell asleep on the beach and became a temporary sand sculpture.
   

2. The Flag ‘Waving’ “Wind! Aha!” Darren shouts, nearly knocking over his pint. Calm down, Poirot. The flag had a horizontal rod sewn in to keep it up, like a little curtain rail for patriotism. It moved when they planted it because they were twisting it into the soil. Physics, not witchcraft.
   

3. Reflections in the Visor “You can see a cameraman!” Darren insists. No, mate, it’s Neil Armstrong. He’s the one taking the picture. It’s a visor, not a mirror from Wilko’s.
   

4. No Stars in the Photos “You’d see stars, innit?” Yeah, and if you take a photo of your mate at night outside the kebab shop, do you see the stars or just Gav squinting like he’s seen God in a garlic naan? Exposure settings, Darren. Cameras don’t work like your eyes. Or your brain after sambuca.

   
   

Why Slough? Why Not?

Slough, bless it, is many things. It's got industry, trains, and a Nando’s that never quite gets the spice level right. But a covert NASA film studio?

Let’s think this through. If you were trying to fake one of the most watched, closely analysed events in human history, with scientists, engineers, radio telescopes, and literal rocket scientists involved, would you do it:

• In a top-secret military facility?

• In the Nevada desert?

• Or behind a Halfords in Slough?

If your answer is Slough, seek help. Immediately.

But Why Do People Believe This Stuff?

Here’s the thing, conspiracy theories are comforting in a weird way. They give people a sense of secret knowledge. Like they’re in on something big. Especially after a few pints and a pickled egg, the world seems easier to understand if you just believe someone’s pulling the strings.

Plus, the internet has turned every Darren with a YouTube channel into a “researcher.” It’s like watching a chimp with a typewriter and calling it Shakespeare because it Googled "moon hoax."

A Pint of Perspective

Look, the moon landing wasn’t filmed in Slough. Kubrick didn’t direct it, and the only thing orbiting the Slough Trading Estate is a Greggs delivery van on a loop.

But here’s the thing — underneath all the daft theories and dodgy facts, there’s usually something human going on. People don’t believe weird stuff because they’re thick. It’s often because they want to feel involved in something bigger, to make sense of a world that feels far too complicated. Especially after a few pints.

The truth is, the real story — the one with actual rockets, real astronauts, and footprints that are still sitting untouched on the moon is way more incredible than any conspiracy.

It’s proof of what we can do when we stop arguing, put our heads together, and aim for something higher, literally. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t easy, but we did it. As a species. Together.

So next time your mate starts going on about aliens working in the Slough Argos, give him a chuckle, then raise your glass and say:

“To curiosity, to questions, to aiming for the stars — and to the brilliant madness of being human.”

Because whether you're standing on the moon or queuing at Nando’s, it’s good to remember: we’re all just trying to find our place in the universe and sometimes, we just need a mate to talk it over with down the pub.

Cheers to that.