A&M Cult - Texas fans please enlighten me

Is this legitimately what a cult is like?

The dog outranks the students. Reveille, a collie, is the highest-ranking member of the Corps of Cadets. Cadets address her as “Miss Rev, ma’am.” If she barks in class, class is canceled. If she hops on a cadet’s bed, he sleeps on the floor. Her predecessors are buried by Kyle Field facing the scoreboard so they can keep watching games. I’m not making any of this up.

They don’t have cheerleaders. They have Yell Leaders. Five guys in white overalls who don’t cheer. They “yell.” They also use hand signals the whole stadium responds to, like a 100,000-person hive mind.

Midnight Yell. The night before home games, tens of thousands of people show up at midnight to practice yelling. Practice. Yelling. At midnight.
Nobody sits. The student section stands the entire game because they’re the “12th Man,” ready to go in if the coach needs them. That’s a century-old story, and they’ve committed to the bit ever since.
You kiss your date after a touchdown. It’s called “mugging down.” No date? Good luck, I guess.

Then there’s “humping it.” During yells, everyone bends forward with hands on knees. Nobody outside Texas can say this sentence without laughing, but they do it with total seriousness.
Everyone says “Howdy.” Everyone. And seniors get to “whoop,” but underclassmen who whoop get corrected. There’s a hierarchy for noises.

The Aggie Ring. Some students celebrate getting their class ring by dropping it into a pitcher of beer and chugging until they catch it in their teeth. It’s called the Ring Dunk.
Don’t walk on the grass at the MSC. It’s a memorial. People will stop you.