You haven't met many liars then. Heck, if we ever had a family reunion, on my ma's side... gosh, you think they were just pulling one big giant prank on you. Not all of them, mind you, just a handful. I used to call them, "storyteller liars," when I was a kid. Compulsive liars, they live for the lie. Ghost stories, mysterious creatures lurking in the rainforest or swimming under the waters at the beach, a UFO base in the mountains or under a lake near a military base over there in Puerto Rico - one of my cousins had a professor in college who was a UFOian, I shit you not. Medallion hanging around his neck, a student asked what it signified, he explained something along an Invasion of the Body Snatchers type of deal, he's a physical copy of an actual human who is stored away at the UFO base in El Yunque, of course.
I have a sibling that I got to deal with this when she visits, she argues about this crap like her life depended on it, yelling, throwing tantrums. Why don't I believe in Sasquatch, she asks, wasn't me that used to read all that books about them from the library that got her onto these things? Yes, it was, that's how I learned it was totally implausible.
Not seekers of a secret truth, but on that eternal quest for the lie, the one that holds the key to a better world, the fantasy world, Oz in a basket. Or nasty one too, gossip mongers live for the ickier stuff.
You're confusing a con artist and those who tell strategic lies for gain with what can be a rather deeper pathology, a psychosis, really.
