Sunday, May 31, 2026

Why You Think the Way You Do (Glenn Sunshine)

In Why You Think the Way You Do, Glenn Sunshine traces the history and evolution of western worldviews "from Rome to Home." His interest "is in the fundamental ideas that shaped the culture and how those ideas were lived out in Western society" and "with the impact Christianity had on worldviews and thus on culture." A summary follows.

"A worldview is the framework you use to interpret the world and your place in it." Worldviews operate "below the radar, behind the scenes, guiding our thoughts, words, and actions and only rarely being examined or analyzed." And "to understand a culture or civilization, you have to understand its wordview."

Ancient Rome
Rome had a variety of religions, most of which were pagan. Its pantheon was ever-growing as it would absorb the deities of those it conquered. Most of its gods were "feared, not loved." "Religious rituals were designed to appease deities, not please them." In this era, Plato and his teachings had a huge role. In Platonism, "ideas are the foundation for reality, [so] clear thinking and logic are the best approaches to understanding the world." It wasn't about observation but logic. He believed that "spirit was superior to matter" and had a hierarchy of being that started with the One ("a being of pure spirit"), from whom all other deities came. (Humans were down on the list, but above animals and plants.) Aristotle (also influential) would follow suit in his logic over observation approach.

Within the Empire, Jews had a different deity. "The God of Israel . . . is personal and created the world as a voluntary act." And "God created humanity in his image as his steward and regent in overseeing the rest of the created world." Eventually, a Jewish sect—Christianity—would arise that held the same beliefs (plus others, obviously, including holding Jesus as Lord and Savior). Christians claimed that their God was alone the only God—an exclusivity claim that didn't go over well in a pluralistic society. They would be persecuted for centuries . . . until Constantine.

The Roman Emperor Constantine issued the Edict of Milan in 313 AD, making Christianity a legal religion. He is said to have converted himself. And "the transition from being a persecuted minority religion to being the favored faith of the emperor inevitably forged ties between church and state that have been a driving force in Western political life ever since." And when the Western Roman Empire collapsed in 476, the church—often the only administrative unit left in a city—would fill the vacuum.

Medieval World
The church and state influenced each other after Constantine. After Rome fell, a "blending of Germanic and Roman cultures with Christianity . . . occurred across the board in all areas of life during these centuries. The different strands influenced each other and gradually blended together to form a new worldview . . " Little survives from that time (hence "Dark Ages"), though of course development continued in many spheres. Platonic humanism arose, and around this time, the works of Aristotle were (re)discovered, leading to scholasticism (a method of study). People viewed it as "safer and more reliable to build our understanding of the world on the base of ancient authorities." But this had its issues, too, and the Condemnations of 1277 "liberated thinking from its slavish dependence on Aristotle." Ultimately, 
The medieval mind assumed that the rational God created a rational universe and that human beings, made in the image of God, were rational as well and could undersatnd the universe. Although they believed that miracles could occur, they also believed that God idd not need to intervene actively for the world to function normally. God created it to operate in a certain way, and the rules that governed its behavior could be discovered by human investigation. Contrary to the assumptions of classical thinkers . . . the best method of learning about the world was not deductive reasoning but direct study and examination fo the world . . [which] laid the foundation for [science].
Christian thoughts influenced other spheres of worldview, too. Ideas that the physical world was real, it and work were inherently good, and property rights were important, all came from the Bible. Augustine, an important thinker of the period, developed ideas of the "City of God" (based on love of God and neighbor) and "City of Man" (based on love of self) which explained the good (and evil) in the world and how society could function with both being true. 

"Starting in the late 1400s, however, Europe was jolted by a series of movements and discoveries that threatened the underlying pillars of medieval thought. The Italian Renaissance, the Protestant Reformation, the European discovery of the Americas, and the rediscovery of an ancient form of skepticism set the stage for momentous changes in the European worldview."

Renaissance, Reformation, and the New World
Based in part on a calamitious fourteenth century (which included "economic decline, continent-wide crop failures, the Hundred Years War, . . . [and] the Black Death"), some "began to argue that Rome was the epitome of civilization, and when Rome fell, civilization ended." They were obsessed with classical civilization (Greece and Rome), but still drew a lot of their approach from medieval times. Like the era that preceded them, they believed "that truth existed and could be known with certainty. They also believed (obviously) that the best guide to truth was the past, and that a unified system of truth could be found by studying past authors, aiming at a grand synthesis of all human knowledge." But they encountered a problem: as they studied the past, Renaissance thinkers found that the scholars of bygone eras didn't agree. This was on problem in the time (more on this below).

Another challenge was the Protestant Reformation. They looked to the Bible as the sole authority (and not the Papacy or tradition) and "insisted that all believers are priests" (and thus elevated 'secular' roles to being sacred callings, too). In some cases, "the lines between civil and ecclesiastical functions blurred," which could mean enforcing moral standards. The rise of competing churches made people question which was right, and religious wars followed (to include the English Civil War and the Thirty Years' War). Those horrific experiences led people to start questioning if we could truly be certain of religion . . . or anything.

Finally, the discovery of the New World challenged peoples' worldview as it raised troubling questions about God and the Bible (because how could Native Americans, having not been exposed to the Gospel for centuries, possibly be saved?). This, plus the above issues and the discovery of an ancient thinker, Pyrrho (who claimed that knowing anything with certainty was impossible), further stressed the worldview.

Scientific Revolution, Deism, and Enlightenment
A slew of thinkers arose (Copernicus, Brahe, Kepler, Galileo, Descartes, Pascal, and Newton among others) who "used both science and Scripture" in their investigations and debates. Collectively, these "laid the foundation for a new epistemology in Europe." "Although the past was respected, scholars increasingly believed that they could build on and improve on past authors, and even prove them wrong. The ancients were no longer 'authorities' but merely people who wrote down ideas that might be right or wrong. Study, analysis, and, where possible, testing became more important than simply citing Aristotle. In short, the idea of progress emerged, and with it, a greater optimisim about human potential." The Christian underpinning remained (a rational God made a rational world that we as rational creatures can understand), which still left "room for supernatural intervention," but a shift was coming.

In the early seventeenth century, there was a shift to looking for exclusively rational explanations of the world, and "a similar trend toward reason occurred in religion." In addition, "many people began to think of religious passions as politically and socially dangerous." A new worldview called deism arose.

In traditional/orthodox Christianity, God was understood to be infinite, creator/sustainer of the universe, transcendent yet immanent/personal and relational. Deists believed some of this . . . to them, "God is infinite but not personal; he is creator but the universe operates on its own without any involvement by God; and he is transcendent but not immanent." Deists "believed that reason was the only guide to turth in any area of life, including religion." They respected the ethics in the Bible but "did not accept its miracles, answered prayers, and interventionist view of God."

In other areas, reason also took precedence. In economics, politics, philosophy, and other areas, "knowledge came exclusively from human reason and could be expected to grow and improve over time, based on the further accumulation of experience." The "material world was the only one that mattered." They still had some underlying Christian influence, however, like "the idea of inalienable, God-given rights, which led to the Enlightenment emphasis on life, liberty, property, and virtue." And the idea of original sin was retained (especially in America), leading to our founders establishing a government with checks and balances since humans are so easily corrupted. But things were still changing, and modernity was coming.

Modernity
Our modern worldview came about in the nineteenth century. Many were functionally deistic, and in that view, God was only there to create the universe. "If another alternative can be found to explain how the universe got here, we can safely eliminate God from the system altogether." In that case, what we would be left with was "a world consisting only of matter and energy—a metaphysical system known as naturalism or materialism." 

Related is the idea of what science is. It used to mean simply knowledge, but now came to refer to only studies that followed the scientific method. "Now only things that could be tested and confirmed through the scientific method qualified as real knowledge; everything else was dismissed as subjective or irrelevant." Given some successes in the natural sciences, this gave rise to "the attempt to apply the scientific methods to solve social problems" in many other fields of study. 

Enter Charles Darwin. His theories lent credence to the naturalistic position, though (interestingly) "Darwinism is not itself subject to the scientific method any more than anything in history is. The past is over; you cannot revisit it, observe it, test it, or experiment on it. All you can do is look at the surviving evidence and try to make sense of it." Ultimately, this shows that "Darwinism is not a scientific theory but a worldview assumption, and as such, it is not falsifiable." It is an article of faith that serves as a presupposition, and it along with materialism had broad implications for other fields.

What about meaning in life? The materialistic worldview "disenchanted" the world. "Materialism provides a ready answer to the question of the meaning or purpose of life: there is none." This leads to nihilism, but since that is hard for most to stomach, more people week to "re-enchant" and embraced existentialism ("nihilism-lite"), which "means that we are radically free to determine what we do and who we are." Things matter—because we say so (since we have rejected other authorities).

Postmodernism
Two horrific World Wars and other calamities in the twentieth century led people to re-think a purely materialistic view. Maybe there is right and wrong . . . but if there is some truth out there that cannot be scientifically proven . . . how do we learn it? Enter deconstructionism—in literature, that is "the idea that texts can be deconstructed and reconstructed as suits the reader." That can be applied to other things, too. If knowing is impossible, we can at least make our own meaning. Postmodern thought "is deconstructionism-lite," rejecting objective truth and insisting on cultural/moral relativity, but holding to "the idea that truth is relative and personal." 

Hence we arrive at present day. "You alone decide what is true and false, right and wrong, for yourself. The only limitation is that you can do nothing that infringes on someone else's freedom." The greatest virtue in such a system? Tolerance. "Not only can you not do anything that limits another's freedom . . . you cannot suggest that there is anything wrong with what they decide to do with their freedom." And not only can you not criticize another, but competing views "must be positively affirmed and celebrated." Which leads to all manner of things, including self-determination of identity, gender, and so on. Where are we now? In many ways, back at Rome, with many of their cultural practices and values being embraced in the public square.

-----
At only 215 pages, this book obviously only skimmed the surface of worldviews and how they have changed over the centuries. That said, it is an excellent work. Sunshine writes well and has a gift for explaining things succinctly and clearly. While I would have preferred some more exploration of the nuances associated with each period, I appreciate that this is intended to be an introduction only. In that, it succeeds. Highly recommended for those interesting in learning more about "how we got here."

Rating: A

Thursday, May 28, 2026

DC Deck-Building Game: Rebirth

Today's review is of the 2019 release, DC Deck-Building Game: Rebirth. For 1-4 players, it takes 45-90 minutes.

Overview
Like all games in the DC Deck-Building Game line, Rebirth is a deck-builder where you all start with the same 10-card hand, drawing 5 to play each turn (which give you some combination of power and movement) and discarding used cards. You add cards by 'purchasing' them from the lineup (putting them in your discard pile) as the game progresses to strengthen future choices (once empty, a new draw pile is formed from the shuffled discard pile; the linked game review explains more). 

But Rebirth differs from most DC:DBG expansions in three important ways:
1) it has locations and your character must move between them to achieve objectives (and buy cards),
2) it can be played as a cooperative experience,
3) it is scenario-based, with eight options, and can be played as a campaign (where information from prior games is retained and used in future ones).
Do you and your friends have what it takes to win each scenario?

Review
This felt like The DC Deck-Building Game meets Marvel United. It was busy, but I liked it—perhaps better than the normal game. Cooperative is fun, and I liked how here you do not buy villains but attack them when they are in the lineup; a more intuitive concept than the original (where you can buy heroes and villains alike for your deck). It would have benefitted from a game board to guide card placement, and I cannot speak to all scenarios (I played only the first), but I enjoyed what I experienced. Recommended.

Rating: A

Friday, May 22, 2026

The Mandalorian and Grogu

Shortly after season 3 of The Mandalorian television series and paraphrasing the opening crawl (found here):
Though the Empire has fallen (this is set after Return of the Jedi), Imperial warlords remain scattered throughout the galaxy. As the fledgling New Republic works to secure systems, they have enlisted the help of the Mandalorian and his young apprentice Grogu to hunt down these criminals in the Outer Rim. 
Here, Mando and Grogu get their hardest mission yet: tracking an elusive warlord whose whereabouts are known by the Hutts. But to get their cooperation, Mando has to do them a favor . . . and can the Hutts be trusted?

There was a lot I enjoyed about this film. I love the time period, it was fun seeing more of the Hutts (and some characters that appeared in previous series or films), the effects were good, some of the characters/moments were amusing, and the overall message was outstanding. Mando summarizes with this line:
The old protect the young. Then the young protect the old. This is the way.
That theme of sacrificing for the good of others is powerful.

I didn't love everything. It was scarier/darker in places than I expected (lots of monsters; beware if your kids are watching). The delivery was quite linear with no side-stories or sub-plots; it had points where it plodded along as a result. It didn't do much to close out the overall story of the title characters, which seemed bizarre. But my main complaint: this felt like two episodes of the television show stitched together, with a climax about halfway followed by a long dead period as the next storyline built up. 

Ultimately, this movie felt like they starting planning a fourth season of the television show, then abandoned that and decided to make a movie instead. I think it would have been better (and more powerful) as a mini-season. If you're a Mando fan, watch this, but you can wait until it hits Disney+.

Rating: B

Wednesday, May 20, 2026

How (Not) to be Secular (James K.A. Smith)

In 2007, Philosopher Charles Taylor published A Secular Age, “a book that offers a genealogy of the secular and an archaeology of our angst.” It looks at where we are and how we got here. And his approach is “not concerned with what people believe as much as with what is believable.”

In 2014, Theologian James K.A. Smith published How (Not) to be Secular, which is "a book about a book—a small field guide to a much larger scholarly tome." It takes Taylor's magisterial 900-page work and boils it down to a 133-page guide.

In 2026, amateur blogger John Mark McLean published this post, which is a 3-page summary of the book that summarizes Taylor. (I dare you to summarize my summary of Smith's summary of Taylor.)
---------
We live in a secular age. But what is that? Taylor defines three kinds of secular.

Secular1: in classical/medieval times, temporal or earthly things (which presupposes a sacred/secular divide).

Secular2: “a nonsectarian, neutral, and areligious space or standpoint.” (Which presupposes such a stance is possible.) Here, people grow disenchanted with religion, believing it to be irrational and divisive, and argue it is possible to “be governed by universal, neutral rationality.”

Secular3: Here, “religious belief or belief in God is understood to be one option among others, and thus contestable (and contested). At issue here is a shift in ‘conditions of belief.’”

He believes we inhabit a Secular3 age that masquerades as a Secular2 age. It claims neutrality and poses as a natural shift away from religion that brings a positive benefit. Being secular is “not just unbelief,” however. “The emergence of the secular is also bound up with the production of a new option—the possibility of exclusive humanism as a viable social imaginary—a way of constructing meaning and significance without any reference to the divine or transcendence.” Our underlying framework has changed. So what happened?

In medieval times, Taylor argues its social imaginary contained three things:
  1. “The natural world was constituted as a cosmos that functioned . . . as a sign that pointed beyond itself, to what was more than nature.”
  2. “Society itself was understood as something grounded in a higher reality; earthly kingdoms were grounded in a heavenly kingdom.”
  3. “People lived in an enchanted world, a world ‘charged’ with presences, that was open and vulnerable, not closed and self-sufficient.”
Over centuries, there was a shift (due to a host of factors, including the Renaissance, Enlightenment, Reformation). In modernity, he sees five elements:
  1. “Disenchantment and the ‘Buffered’ Modern Self.” Things have natural causes/explanations, it’s more about our mind and interpretation, and we are insulated/isolated.
  2. “Living Social.” Individuals “are the locus of meaning . . . [so] disbelief no longer has social consequences.”
  3. “The carnival is over: ‘Lowering the Bar’ for Flourishing.” Instead of “trying to maintain an equilibrium between the demands of creaturely life and the expectations for eternal life,” the modern age says “you can stop being burdened by what eternity/salvation demands and simply frame ultimate flourishing within this world.”
  4. “The Fullness of Time.” There used to be the notion that “time is transcended by ‘higher’ time” which is “not merely chronological or linear.” But here, “nothing ‘higher’ impinges on our calendars—only the tick-tock of chronos, and the self-imposed burdens of our ‘projects.’”
  5. “From Cosmos to Universe.” “The shift from cosmos to universe—from ‘creation’ to ‘nature’—makes it possible to now imagine meaning and significance as contained within the universe itself, and autonomous, independent ‘meaning’ that is unhooked from any sort of transcendent narrative.”
And the tide kept turning. He talks about other shifts, including a “fourfold process of ‘immanentization.’”
  • A shift away from “a sense of obligation ‘beyond’ human flourishing” [Christians say “thy will be done” of God] to “a new emphasis: providence is primarily about ordering this world for mutual benefit, particularly economic benefit.”
  • A shift away from needing grace to “we can figure this out without assistance.”
  • A shift away from God’s inscrutability/mysterious ways to “mystery can no longer be tolerated.”
  • A shift away from the idea that God is transforming us (making all things new!). “We lose the sense that humanity’s end transcends its current configurations . . .”
He also sees a shift in politics to a “modern moral order” which “amounts to an ordering of society for mutual benefit” but is “unhooked from the specifics of Christian doctrines and tethered to a more generic deistic god,” making it “independent of any specific—and hence contestable—claims about . . . God.” “The ultimate and transcendent are retained but marginalized and made increasingly irrelevant.” This “is a kind of secularization of Christian universalism.”

He sees the shift in religion, too. To a view that God is impersonal and inactive.

What do these shifts mean in aggregate? It has changed “what we take for granted.”

Aside: we all live with “an unchallenged framework” that “becomes part of the background that governs our being-in-the-world.” And that “our ‘take’ is not something reasoned to as much as it is something we reason from.” All of us live with basic orientations that (no matter how seemingly ‘neutral’) are value-laden. What do you consider uncontestable (or uncritically accept)? That is a clue to your framework. Nobody is intellectually independent; we all serve some authority, even if we don’t recognize it.

Where are we today? The shifts mentioned above have produced a different imaginary (what Taylor calls “exclusive humanism”). And yet “Our secular age is [not] an age of disbelief; it’s an age of believing otherwise. We can’t tolerate living in a world without meaning. So if the transcendence that previously gave significance to the world is lost, we need a new account of meaning—a new ‘imaginary’ that enables us to imagine a meaningful life within this now self-sufficient universe of gas and fire.” And while some “assume that this is just ‘the way things are,’ in fact what we take for granted is contingent and contestable.” And we all contest it, in our own way, as we sense something has been lost. “’We moderns’ are not entirely comfortable with modernity.”

So we live in a time “where ‘the secular’ and ‘the religious’ haunt each other in a mutual dance of displacement and decentering.” Indeed, “our age is haunted. On the one hand, we live under a brass heaven, ensconced in immanence. We live in the twilight of both gods and idols. But their ghosts have refused to depart, and every once in a while we might be surprised to find ourselves tempted by belief, by intimations of transcendence . . . on the other hand, even as faith endures in our secular age, believing doesn’t come easy. Faith is fraught; confession is haunted by an inescapable sense of its contestability. We don’t believe instead of doubting; we believe while doubting. We’re all Thomas now.”

What is the result of this mutual haunting? A “nova effect”—“an explosion of options for finding (or creating) ‘significance’” because “all sorts of people find themselves caught” in “’cross-pressures’—pushed by the immanence of disenchantment on one side, but also pushed by a sense of significance and transcendence on another side, even if it might be a lost transcendence.” This book’s ultimate argument “is that most of live in this cross-pressured space, where both our agnosticism and our devotion are mutually haunted and haunting.” We have “doubt and longing, faith and questioning.”

Where to from here? How should the Christian respond? Perhaps not by focusing on evidence or data (which in a sense concedes the game and points to human reason as the highest ideal) “but rather to offer an alternative story that offers a more robust, complex understanding of the Christian faith”. Ultimately “the appeal is to a ‘sense,’ a feel for things.” “It is not demonstrable except insofar as it offers a better account of our experience.”
---------
Smith's book is great; I assume Taylor's is, too. A highly useful guide to understanding our times. Recommended.

Rating: A

Monday, May 18, 2026

The Lost Tales of Sir Galahad (Various)

In Howard Pyle's The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur, the author mentions that Sir Galahad had many adventures "of which no account hath been given" before he achieved the Grail. Rejoice . . . for account hath now been given! In this collection from Rabbit Room Press, 25 authors provide as many stories of what happened in that time, claiming discovery of "a hidden trove of medieval manuscripts" that finally shed light on Galahad's adventures.

Listed as for children (aged 8 and up), I was unexpectedly pleased with this volume. The authors do a good job maintaining the spirit of classic Arthurian tales while infusing a more accurate (yet softly-spoken) Christian message in them. (Many of the original tales show a distorted/works-based view of the Gospel, in my opinion.) There is okay humor and fun cultural references, too (mostly geared towards juveniles, but some gems only adults will catch). Recommended.

Rating: A

Sunday, May 17, 2026

Excalibur

Today's review is of the 2026 release, Excalibur. For 2-8 players, it takes 20 minutes.

Overview
In this party game, your goal is to become king of Avalon by possessing the legendary Excalibur sword when the game ends. But you must be cunning . . . for thieves and other characters abound who also yearn for the blade. Do you have what it takes?

Excalibur is a chip-based game. Two of the game's three swords—Excalibur and the Cursed Blade—are set aside at the start. Other chips are randomly chosen and added to the initial pool to equal the number of players, all are shuffled and secretly handed out (so each player has one to start), then each player draws chips from any region (there are three) in Avalon so that all players start with four chips. The game begins.
The three regions of Avalon; image from here
One player starts with the crown. All players secretly choose one of their chips, hold them in their hand, then reveal them simultaneously. The starting player goes first and the chips are resolved in clockwise order. Each chip has a role and ability on it; generally, these allow you to draw chips (from Avalon), steal (from other players), swap (with chips in Avalon or other players' hands), and so on. The game comes with a reference card that clarifies each role.
example chips; image from here

the rules and role references; image from here
As chips are used, they are trashed. Once all players have resolved their chips in a round, the crown passes clockwise, players draw back up to four chips, and the next round starts. Play continues until one or two regions in Avalon are empty; then the player with Excalibur wins, the player with the Cursed Sword loses, and the player with the Squire's Sword shares the win *only* if they are adjacent to the player with Excalibur.

Review
This is a fun and fast party game. Almost like hot potato inverted; you want to end up with the sword when the music stops. Chances are, you'll be able to figure out who has it at some point in the game, and chaos ensues as each player scrambles to get it. The chips have some fun abilities on them, and enable players to steal, swap, or even put the sword back in the middle. As you can keep shuffling your chips, even players who steal from you might not get what they want . . . it reminded me of the "where's the baseball" game at Camden Yards, where the ball is hidden under one crab and you try to track it as it is whirled around the screen with other crabs. The Arthurian theme is just pasted on (unfortunately), but this is still a winner.

Rating: A

Friday, May 15, 2026

Replayability (GDJ 6)

"Man Writing" by Oliver Ray
It's been almost six years (!) since my last game design journal post. But my dream of making a game some day remains, and 'never stop starting'. Today's post looks at replayability, with a simple thesis:
A good game has high replayability.
Okay . . . so what is replayability? A starting point: a replayable tabletop game is "a game that is enjoyable even after many plays." What makes a game enjoyable? As I explore here and here, that is based on some mixture of meaningful choices, chance, and challenge. Through that lens, I would define a replayable tabletop game as "a game that consistently presents players of all skill and familiarity levels with an engaging and enjoyable challenge." 

Why does replayability matter? It is perhaps easiest to describe this through looking at the antithesis. A non-replayable game is one easily solved—where there is one obvious path/strategy to victory, and once a player gains enough familiarity with the game, must choose that path/strategy if they care about winning. In short, a non-replayable game does not present a challenge after many plays, leaving players bored and looking for other options.

All games can be solved to some degree (veterans of a game will have an idea of which strategies are more effective), but in good games, the decision tree doesn't narrow much: there is enough 1) balance, 2) variation, and/or 3) skill required in execution that even veterans will have meaningful choices to make and view it as a challenge. I think it comes down to those three factors, which I explore more below.

Balance. By this I mean that the game is fundamentally sound and well-designed; there is no superior strategy built in (knowingly or unwittingly) by the designers that would narrow the decision tree from the outset. If a given strategy is more likely to succeed, it must be harder to implement. A silly example of a perfectly-balanced game: rock-paper-scissors. 

Variation. Many games use variation to boost replayability. Here are a few ways designers do this:
- modular boards (changing game board itself)
- unique player abilities (by being assigned a character, for example)
- different win conditions or objectives, randomly chosen before each game
- different ways to earn points
- common chance elements (shuffling decks, rolling dice)
- introducing expansions to add elements (and, in cases of Collectible Card Games, rotating older expansions out of legality, forcing players to use new cards)

Skill in execution. Think chess. There is no variation in setup or chance elements in that game—just pure skill. And it has remained a popular tabletop game for centuries. Just because you know how the pieces move doesn't mean you can play well . . . every board state requires a tremendous degree of analysis. You could argue that this is a subset of the variation category . . . but I think it merits separate contemplation, as the variation is caused solely by the movements each participant chooses.

Are there any other categories to consider for replayability?

If you love games, think about which ones have proven replayable for you and why. Or which ones have been 'solved' and left untouched as a result.