Previously referred to as the “Horizon Ball,” the large glass sphere perched on the foreshore has long baffled locals. Was it art? A weather orb? A high-budget snow globe? Turns out it was none of the above.
“It was always meant to be a crackpipe,” said one council insider. “The sphere was just the first stage. We always planned to attach the stem once we cleared the debt on the bowl.”
According to internal documents (and several poorly redacted council emails), the sculpture’s full design was titled Vision Horizon: A Pipe Dream, but was quietly shortened to “Horizon Ball” after budget blowouts made the pipe portion financially unfeasible.
Enter Afterpay.

“Look, you can’t just throw down half a million on a municipal bong all at once,” said City Corporate Services Director Pete Radical. “But if you break it into 14 easy payments over seven years, suddenly it's achievable art.”
The final stage — the pipe attachment — was completed earlier this month once the city’s Afterpay limit reset. The gleaming glass stem now juts proudly from the orb, confirming that yes, Geraldton ratepayers have collectively purchased a sculpture of what appears to be a fully packed, coastal-themed meth apparatus.
Council maintains the 3.9% rate hike isn’t just about the pipe, though sources say the repayment schedule was getting tight after an unexpected balloon payment last December. To ease the sting, council is restructuring the rating model to spread the cost “more equitably,” i.e. confusingly.
According to Council, the new model will ensure that suburban families pay slightly less than feared, while industrial businesses receive a surprise invoice they can quietly scream into.
"This is about fairness," said Radical, staring into the middle distance where the Ball loomed silently. "Fairness and also compound interest."
Under the proposed system, residential ratepayers will see an average increase of $90, while minimum payments will jump from $1050 to $1300 — enough to cover half a basket of goods at Woolies.
Public submissions will be open for 21 days after the May 27 vote, although residents are warned that any feedback involving the terms “what the actual f***” or “how high were they” may be automatically filtered.
Locals have responded with a mix of outrage and weary acceptance.
“It’s beautiful in a way,” said one resident. “It perfectly reflects this town. Big glass pipe, looks expensive, no one knows what it does, and somehow I have to pay for it.”
Meanwhile, the council insists the Horizon Pipe is an important cultural symbol — a nod to forward thinking, fluid form, and the city’s unofficial motto: just send it and sort the bill out later.
More To Come.

Horace J Lightworthy

