Back in the 1960s and ’70s, when rally cries were a staple of the protest movements, someone lustily yelled out, “Power to the people.” And that citizen scream stuck. “Power to the people”: it is concise, easy to remember, and encompasses a lot of situations. All in all, it’s a great catchphrase.

This weekend, I found myself enmeshed in a world where “Puppet Up” was bellowed over and over, and a tiny, furry, loving red beast reduced grown men and women to tears. Yep, I had a “puppet power” marathon. It wasn’t intentional, but its results were inspirational.

I’m not sure if Suzanne Collins was picturing me when she pounded out the “Hunger Games” trilogy. Certainly, I was not who she envisioned as one of her youthful, teen warriors, but did she ever imagine that her three books would be adopted as a battle-cry for folks of every age, and every background, who worry about the fate of the United States and what lies in store for us over the next generation? Published by Scholastic—which immediately suggests school book clubs and pre-teen passions—the fictional account of a post-Apocalyptic America is gritty and gruesome and captures the real essence of personal responsibility and grrrrl power!

This has been an interesting week—seven days filled with dolls that promise to be made in the image of often-overlooked children, while a pair of children came to the foreground and demanded to be seen, heard, adored and looked at, via YouTube, of course.

After an online campaign, which had launched on Facebook, brought a massive amount of signatures to Mattel’s attention, the California-based toy company conceded to the group’s requests. A “bald Barbie” will be manufactured and distributed to children’s hospitals and alopecia foundations to be given as comforting playthings and as reminders to children with cancer and other health issues that they are not alone.

For consistent readers of my blog, you know that I often discover issues concerning dolls in the most unlikely places. This week, I initially came across a story on “The O’Reilly Factor” that had host, Mr. Bill O’Reilly, seeing more red than usual. The FOX News Channel—with its “fair and balanced” tagline—could easily change it to “fairly ball-jointed” because their news anchors do spend hours of airtime covering doll concerns. It is always highly entertaining to watch the FOX “foxes,” the very good-looking women who populate the station, reporting on the latest Barbie ballyhoo or breast-feeding brouhaha.

Is it possible to be ahead of one’s time, and then behind one’s moment to shine, followed by the exact moment when the rest of the world has caught up and all constellations align for perfect acceptance? If that sounds all sort of “touchy/feely” or New Age nonsensical, I apologize. I just don’t know how else to explain the career of RuPaul and his/her emergence as a charismatic and enjoyable television commodity.

A rose is a rose is a rose, but a doll is not always a doll. At least, that’s the guiding force behind the photos of Chinese poet and artist Liu Xia. In a society like ours, where every person with a keyboard and a camera phone can become an Internet gadfly—I’m looking in the mirror here—it’s difficult to imagine a culture where access to television, radio, the Web, and public discourse is denied daily. In fact, it’s beyond being denied—it’s squelched, squashed, and declared “a crime against the state.”

The fantasy of million-dollar fashions and age-defying figures that is Hollywood’s most breathtaking night has ended, and the awards season has come to a Technicolor end. Or has it? I think host Billy Crystal was right when he joked about the TV audience watching “a bunch of millionaires giving golden statues to one another.” Admittedly, there is something odd about seeing highly paid people, who already receive accolades and applause, garnering more trophies and prestige. Still, the night is festive, glamorous, and allows movie lovers a chance to revel in the spectacle and place some wagers on the side. It is the Super Bowl for cinephiles! (I did very, very well with my Academy Award picks.)

Toy Fair is a unique and magical place. And what makes the February staple at New York City’s Javits Center even more unusual is the total absence of real children. Yes, a huge cut-out of curly-haired, smiling moppets greet you as you slog in from the frigidly cold Manhattan streets, but the real deal is nowhere to be seen. Kids are an exotic rare creature at Toy Fair—seeing one or two (the offspring of some determined dealers or manufacturers) is like spotting a unicorn or an original swirl-ponytail Barbie #1, Mint in Box, at a local garage sale.

The other day while watching the Super Bowl—no, not watching it, rejoicing in it—I had to do a double take. During one of the many advertisements that bookend the pigskin plays, I thought I saw a line of text scrawl across the screen about “Hasbro, the company that gave you the Transformers.” And then, lo and behold, there came a series of scenes that depicted fleets, and vessels, and men in uniform, and women with headsets on, and finally Liam Neeson. Most of the action seemed to be taking place on a battleship.

Writing a doll blog makes me supersensitive to what is selling and what is percolating in the toy industry. Hoping to brew a finely tuned sense for what is going on, I’m also called upon to meditate and ruminate on all these developments and how they impact our daily lives. So, blending the practical (doll sales) with the philosophical (my blog ramblings), if a doll DOESN’T sell in the forest of toy stores and websites, does it still make a sound? In the case of this week’s blog, it makes an even bigger sound than you could ever imagine.