I have rings, but no fingers. I orbit, but never wander. What am I?

I push with weight on cloth or stone, I spread the word through ink alone. I chase the powerful, swift and loud, Yet fold your shirts without a crowd. To squeeze, to print, to question, to lean, Four meanings bound in one machine.

A creature with no bones, Fuzzy to the touch, Famous in eighties homes, But now not around so much. Now they'd be called way too woke, But back then flooded your TV, Movies cartoons, adverts - folks! They were ubiquitous to see. Famous for a special stare, A beam of arctic empathy, Now they're gone IDK where, Who were they; can you tell me?

When nature is troubled and taken apart. I come with the elements and a little bit of heart. Five rings together, I come forth with force. Always remember, THE POWER IS YOURS.

I'm in every room but I'm not furniture. You can look through me, but I'm not a mirror.