Once you reach that corner, the Aventador hangs on so hard that you think its grip is practically limitless, at which point it starts to wash out -- front end or back end first, depending on what you're doing with the throttle. It's pretty easy to correct, as long as you don't hit a bump or decide to get saucy with the throttle. In Corsa mode, the stability control system will let you get entertainingly sideways before saving you from yourself. And, yes, I had the stability control on. Most of the time. Lambo commanded us to leave ESC active, but I knew that if I did that I'd be laughed out of the Total Badass Awesome-Guy Club, of which I'm a founding member. So I turned it off for a slow hairpin, goosed the throttle, and instantly found the windshield full of green wall. I corrected a couple of ugly tank-slapper aftershocks and resolved to leave the ESC on like the nice Lambo people told me to.
So, initial impressions: The 2012 Aventador does not rewrite everything you think you knew about Lamborghini. In fact, it takes all the brutality of the Murcielago and amps it up. (With the exception that the new transmission doesn't get confused at low speeds, like the Murcie's did -- that car would lurch and stutter and make Lewis Hamilton look like a student of Magoo Driving School when you were just trying to pull away from a stop.) The Aventador can shift hard, to let you know it has gears. Its V-12 howls on the throttle and burps thunderclaps on the overrun. And the car looks like Satan's midlife crisis.
Because what did you expect? The scissor-door V-12 Lambo is now a franchise just like the Porsche 911, and the goal was not to mess it up. I'm happy to report that they didn't.