A t noon on May 21, 2016, two groups of activists squared off outside the Islamic Da'wah Center in Houston, Texas. One group, bearing Confederate flags and "White Lives Matter" t-shirts, was there to protest the "Islamization" of Texas. They' d been called to action via "The Heart of Texas, " a popular right-wing Facebook group. Their opponents, Muslim Americans and their allies, were also responding to a call issued via Facebook, in their case by "United Muslims of America. " According to the Houston Chronicle, counter-protestors outnumbered protestors five to one, and the event, though tense, was peaceful (Glenn).Was the Houston showdown just another example of the power of digital technology to further connection and cooperation, for good or ill? It certainly seemed so until eighteen months later, when it was revealed that, in fact, both "The Heart of Texas" and "United Muslims of America" were operated by foreign agents. Over the course of many months, group members on both sides were fed a steady diet of twisted and outright false information (in addition to some accurate information, and numerous jokes and memes, of course). The event in Houston was the culmination of this programming, an attempt to convert online tribalism into real-world political action. "What neither side could have known, " said Senator Richard Burr, "was that Russian trolls were encouraging both sides to battle in the streets and create division between real Americans" (Bertrand). Burr's claim is striking. Note how he positions the participants, though: neither side could have known. Is this accurate? Could the participants really not have known they were being manipulated? In short, I believe that they could and should have known. As a society, we have an obligation to ensure that they know. And as writing teachers and literacy scholars, we can help fulfill this obligation. To do so effectively, though, we need a more robust understanding of our current information environment