How to lie
Many kinds of lie are told, and not all are confined to politics; but there are two kinds frequently encountered in this trade. The more popular is the plausible lie, in which the politician presents information as true, although it is, at best, misleading, and usually, very misleading. Yet it is meant to be believed, which is why it is made to sound plausible.
Usually, statistical estimates are involved, which could not be accurate, even if the intention were honest. Because you cannot count the hairs on your head, until you go bald. Indeed, estimates are presented of all things because the modern man, who is deeply sceptical about the existence of God, can only be convinced by “the numbers.” (See the Bible, passim, for what God thinks of statistics.)
The intent to deceive is what makes this kind of lie malicious. Too, one should look for other acts of malice within this “rhetorical figure,” for an unambiguous evil will generally point to another. Indeed, we might call it “scientific lying,” and note, fraudulent research (for instance, “climate science”) invariably depends upon statistics.
Contrast, the outrageous lie. The most typical form of this is in satire. To be truly outrageous, you must tell a lie that no one can believe (always excepting the fatally stupid). Two recent examples from the news: one, Ukraine invaded Russia; and two, Russia needs peace. An outrageous, perhaps satirical lie, such as Trump often tells, is meant to direct the audience towards a paradoxical truth.
Previously (perhaps not in this space), I have argued that only satirists are honest. To which I might add that, only satirists are entertaining and funny.