This has been on my mind ever since a recent (and very minor) bout with identity theft: What if it were really identity theft?

What if someone really stole your identity? Would you go around, “Who am I?  What am I doing here? Where am I going?”

Spooky, isn’t it?

Which is a problem that Ole Miss fans will never have, at least not during football season when they get together for weekly reminder sessions, asking rhetorically in unison, “Who the hell are we?”

And answering, of course, in unison, “Flim flam, bim bam, Ole Miss, by damn.”

Even if Ole Miss fans temporarily lose their individual identities, collective minds and maybe even consciousness, they will go no longer than a week during the fall before they will once again be reminded with the Hotty Toddy cheer.

Which cheer itself may be endangered through guilt by association. After all, it’s an alcohol-culture-celebrating, profane bit of doggerel that may be in as dire need of update or retirement as other cows once sacred.

Or the Ole Miss cheerleaders could act now, preemptively, to  alter the cheer and raise the level of discourse to a higher standard in hope that students, alums and fans would follow.
“Hoity Toity … “