Nobody really thinks former Gov. Larry Hogan is No Moore.

The real estate mogul-turned-Republican politician is not sitting in his darkened Davidsonville basement, sipping Diet Mountain Dew while giggling with ChatGPT over their latest AI Wes Moore snark.

“I’m coloring it all blue,” a fake Moore says in a No Moore post about gerrymandering. “Where’s WE-COM-EE-CO? Doesn’t matter! Hahahaha!”

That would just be weird.

If you’re not in the know about No Moore, count yourself lucky. It’s an anonymous website and social media presence posting nonstop criticism of Moore, Maryland’s first Black governor.

Some of it is funny AI lampooning. Some is fact-based. And some slips into lazy racist memes and humor. None of it will make much of a difference in 2026, when voters decide on a second Moore term.

So, for the members of Maryland’s perpetual society of also-rans behind No Moore, there’s nothing to lose.

If the joke offends, the jokester benefits anyway.

“This is meant to be comical and farcical, not literal,” said Niambi Carter, an assistant professor with the University of Maryland School of Public Policy. “If he’s offended, good.”

Hogan appears to be toying with a run against Moore next year, and Maryland Democrats would love to tie him or someone close to him to No Moore.

“Hogan wants people to believe that he rises above the partisan squabble,” said Joe Francaviglia, deputy executive director of the state Democratic party. “Well, it’s time to prove it.”

Hogan’s smarter than that. No surprise he didn’t bite.

No Moore did.

“Stop making fun of me,” a new entry in a catalogue of AI Moores cried, complete with rainbow wig and clown nose. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

The messenger, whoever he or she or they may be, matters less than the medium. AI-generated images have arrived in Maryland, and there’s no going back.

President Donald Trump shares images of “Chipocalypse Now,” an AI meme of himself as a napalm-loving Lt. Col. Kilgore from the 1979 anti-war movie “Apocalypse Now,” with Democratic-led Chicago in the background.

California Gov. Gavin Newsom throws it right back at him, posting an image of himself with the Nobel Peace Prize that Trump so clearly covets.

Both sides churn out endless brawny, bronzed images on all channels, each one funnier to its fans than the next.

ChatGPT powered this visual explosion in March, rolling out a cartoon generator for all users. Anyone can now be a partisan cartoonist, although the wit to do it well isn’t included in the software upgrade.

Trump as a Jedi knight. Newsom sweeping a smiling first lady Melania Trump off her feet. Trump in a lavish new White House ballroom as former MAGA followers starve around campfires. Newsom wearing a crown as king of the gerrymander.

No Moore is clever, but not that clever.

Depicting a Black man as a laughing clown echoes minstrel shows. Exaggerating Moore’s speech patterns fits stereotypes about the way Black people speak.

It’s a long tradition in America, even if we’re past the days of Willie Horton. He was a Black man paroled in Massachusetts, only to commit violent crimes in Maryland, and an ad featuring his face was a racist dog whistle sounded by Republicans during the 1988 presidential election.

Barack Obama, Kamala Harris and Stacey Abrams have all been targets since then.

Republicans are comfortable throwing racial hand grenades, often subtle ones, said Antoine Banks, government and politics chair at the University of Maryland. Democrats are more likely to spot the offense.

“It brings up these ideas about race,” he said, “even if people don’t see it.”

You don’t have to read into the comments very far to see that some of No Moore’s followers get both the overt and subtle criticisms.

Followers include Republican legislators and their staff, journalists, activists and a whole lot of people who identify as critics of Moore’s party and ideas.

It’s a thin share of the electorate, expanded by people outside Maryland.

The response of Democrats to No Moore is what you’d expect from the party in complete control of Annapolis most years — moral outrage that anyone would stoop to this.

Ignoring it might have been better.

Democratic leaders complained to the state Board of Elections in March that No Moore was collecting money for political purposes without registering as a political action committee.

In September, the group registered with the Federal Election Commission as a PAC, laughed again on X, Facebook and Instagram and asked for more money.

“Show Maryland you’ve had ENOUGH,“ No Moore wrote on Facebook. ”Donate just $5 today and get your own No Moore bumper sticker.”

The Democrats could counterpunch, hoisting an AI Hogan paving paradise for one more parking lot, or state Senate Minority Leader Stephen Hershey, another potential candidate in ’26, as an insignificant, little chocolate Kiss.

But they don’t, and that’s another pattern.

Talk radio, social media and now AI. Republicans consistently eat Democrats alive on emerging platforms.

“I just don’t know that the Democrats have the instincts,” said Carter, the Maryland professor.

So who is No Moore? There are clues.

NoMoore.org popped up in December, days after Hogan lost the U.S. Senate race to Angela Alsobrooks. Some of the talking points — not the casual racism — sound similar to the former governor’s comments this year.

NoMoore.org and ChangeAnnapolis.org, a website tied to the Maryland Republican Party that echoes Hogan’s ChangeMaryland.org, share common design elements.

And frankly, who else would benefit?

It is someone with skills and ego enough to anonymously push boundaries and buttons, to nip at Moore’s heels in hopes of benefiting Hogan or some other future opponent.

We are in the early days of AI imagery in elections. It will only grow as the Democrats respond or someone does it for them.

Today, you know that’s not Wes Moore laughing about your power bills on NoMoore, rainbow wig tossing lightly in the artificial breeze and red nose poking you merrily in the eye.

You might not in 2026.