There is a Latin American fairy tale, which originated in pre-Columbian times, that a kid was constantly lying, and they wanted to beat it out of him, but beating kids in that tribe was against the rules. So every year they had a chance to send someone from their village to the King, which was not like a Christian mediaeval king, but a totally different sort of title, with different concepts attributed to the King, but one thing is sure, this Inka king was extremely wise and cruel and he did not like deception.

So they brought this kid to him, the kid was trembling in fear and the king heard the case, he had been also believed to have been given magical powers, to heal, to change people into salamanders, etc.

So he heard the kid speak finally, and the old wise and cruel king decided that the kid was making poetry, and fiction, and the kid was no lying, but saying the truth in metaphoric ways, and the kid was saying emotional truths, more than actual factual truths, so the king got up off his thone, or whatever, carpet or feather-tapestry, and embraced the kid, and he made the kid into a high-ranking officer or nobleman or shaman or lover of slave women, whatever, and he told every one tha the kid was no evil, he was, instead, a holy person who had just invented poetry and fiction.

There, I don't know what you can do with this, MsHarmoney. But I have always felt a lot of affinity to this kid.

I don't think I want to be the kid in the story; I want to be another kid in another story, in which the kid discovers humour, and makes everyone laugh, but they don't know what's happening, all they know is they feel good and have to sit down or else they fall down, when the kid says something, and their stomachs shake, and they are grinning with an open mouth, etc. etc. and then the story would continue with the aforementioned king and I am the kid, and the king declares that I had just invented humour, and I was made hole and got the official post in the buearocracy of the place as the official woman-impregnator, with all the French benefits too, that came with the job.

I'd go a bit furhter. I would set up an autodafe and a system of inquisition, in which those who said they believe they beleived in Santa Claus, would be declared heretics and burnt at the stakes.

Thus, most kids who are under 6 would be exterminated.

Except the future is not fact.

A lie can only be uttered about facts.

If you lie about your intention, that's a lie, but if your intentions are sincere and somehow can't be carried out due to a changed situation, then you have not lied during the election.

If one believes that what one says is true, then one is not a liar.

A liar says something that the person believes to be false but presents to others as being true.

I think there is even a term to mean that. A term or two.

''Making a misinformed statement.''

''Mistaken opinion.''

''Disproven opinion.''

''Erroneous expression expounded in error.''

''Misspoken.''

''Uninformed opinion.''

A lie is telling an untruth by premeditated motivation.

So a lie can`t exist without some of these necessary elements:
- opinion
- will
- deception or an attempt at it
- critical analysis by self
- ability to tell the validity of a statement, vis-a-vis truth
- a shave, a haircut, and a sixth sense
- CAN YOU NAME A FEW MORE??

When is it a lie?

I told Grandma I was to visit her, and then later decided not to, and went to the football game instead without telling her.

How would Grandma perceive it? What would she believe?

Had I just forgot what I said about visiting her, and had gone to the game.
or
Had I every intention of not visiting her and going to the game, therefore telling her a lie.

Only Grandma can decide what she believes, and would probably base her belief on past experience on whether I told her a lie.